


The Trial of Jean Grey

by fatessilence, FritoKAL, Haywire, iamthez, JustShai, lisabounce, Luciain, Rossi, Sephirajo, untune_the_sky, X_Project, Zippit



Series: The Dark Phoenix Saga [3]
Category: X-Men - All Media Types, X-Project RPG
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Explicit Language, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-17
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-14 09:43:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 34,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9174304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fatessilence/pseuds/fatessilence, https://archiveofourown.org/users/FritoKAL/pseuds/FritoKAL, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haywire/pseuds/Haywire, https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamthez/pseuds/iamthez, https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustShai/pseuds/JustShai, https://archiveofourown.org/users/lisabounce/pseuds/lisabounce, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luciain/pseuds/Luciain, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rossi/pseuds/Rossi, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sephirajo/pseuds/Sephirajo, https://archiveofourown.org/users/untune_the_sky/pseuds/untune_the_sky, https://archiveofourown.org/users/X_Project/pseuds/X_Project, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zippit/pseuds/Zippit
Summary: Jean is found, but the Imperial Guard have their own agenda which brings the two allies into a conflict no-one can win.Part 3 of theThe Dark Phoenix Saga. Plot by Dex.Cyclops played by AJ, Jean Grey by Mack, Wolverine by Zippit, Blink by Mo', Namor by Walks, Rogue by Zoila, Husk by Aisy, the Invisible Girl by AJ, Network by Jeff, the White Queen by Amanda, Legion by Tap, Rachel by Jills, Polaris by Rei, Pixie by Marlena, Hellion by Ryan, Gambit by Dex, Scorpion by Jo, Longshot by Walks, Adrienne Frost by Mon, Storm by Erin, Jessica Jones by Kale, Callisto by Morag, Deadpool by Cai, the Scarlet Witch by Jen, Daytripper by Rossi, Wiccan by Matt, Tarot by Frito, Squirrel Girl by Jo, Hawkeye by Cai, Korvus by Cross, Doug by Twiller, Artie by L.





	1. Log 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paige's team finishes the suppressor.
> 
>  
> 
> _Paige played by Aisy, Sue by AJ, Sarah by Jeff_

If only a week ago you told Sue she'd be here then the teenager would have laughed, the idea that things with Dr Grey would suddenly cascade this badly would have been laughable, there weren't many people who were as in control as she was. But now they were putting together a power suppressor for her and hoping that it was enough to lock down her powers, or at least dampen them enough to get through to her ex-teacher. She looked down at the schematics in her hand then at the contraption that was taking shape on the desk in front of her. "This seems weird doesn't it? I mean I know this is weird, us making this but" she babbled nervously.

"It's pretty weird." Flipping through her tablet, Paige adjusted the settings and sent a quick jolt through the beginnings of the circuitry, mapping it out with a frown. She had no idea how this was going to work other than it had to; she missed Forge so much right now, at least the less stubborn not off to secure my own glory parts. And the parts that had used a welding tool in the last five years, unlike herself. "At least we got the vacuum former working again," she said, before realizing it was out loud. "I mean, uh. Even for Xavier's, it's pretty weird."

"Weird indeed." Sarah agreed, checking out the power source of the suppressor to ensure it was working properly, at least as best as she could. It seemed to be alright, so she put it back down and examined some of the other parts.

She was missing Forge something fierce too, this kind of thing was way more in his wheelhouse than hers. Sarah could be helpful with things that were up and running for the most part, though the more familiar she was with them the better, so something like this, well. Given how important it was that they made this and it worked, however, she was going to give it her all to do what she could to help, no matter how small a part that was in the grand scheme of things.

"Everything seems to be checking out so far, which is good, yeah?" Sarah peered over at the schematics Sue was holding, checking to see if there were any other parts she had to inspect.

"It's a good start," Sue agreed, this was the part of engineering she loved the most; the moment all your plans leapt off the page and came together. "Do you think it'll be enough? Dr Grey-Summers is an entirely new level of power." the blonde huffed distractedly at a strand of her hair blowing it out of her face, "we may need to build more capacity into it."

"Agreed," Paige said, sending another jolt through a different area. "Both on the smoothly, knock on wood, and more capacity. I mean, we all saw the specs on the power she's putting out, and those were estimates."

"Definitely." Sarah agreed. "I just hope that we can add enough capacity." Paige was right, they'd likely be hard pressed to meet those estimates alone, and that's all they were, estimates.

She looked up at them both and then back to the device, then nodded her head. "Right, let's give it a shot then."

"Ok," Sue agreed reaching for a pair of lab specs, it wasn't going to blow up, she was around 80% sure, but lab safety had been one thing that had been drilled into her from day one, "Stand clear," the younger blonde reached out and flicked the switch to the power supply watching as the lights on the suppressor came on the machine glowing ominously in the middle of the table. Sue reached out hesitantly to tap one of the meters she'd attached to the device, it was almost ominous how quietly it sat there flashing away happily. "Well she said turning to the others and flashing a smile, "the numbers are good and it didn't blow up so that's always a bonus."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> X-Project is an X-Men Movieverse/MCU RPG on Dreamwidth. It started in 2003, set right after the second X-Men movie, and from there took on a life of its own. Thirteen years later it’s become a universe all its own, and includes characters from all walks of Marvel life – no character is too small or too obscure for X-Project. We roleplay mainly through writing logs on email, as well as posts on Dreamwidth.
> 
> If you're interested, check out the below links!
> 
>   
> [Welcome to X-Project](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Welcome_To_X-Project) | [Application](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Application) | [Available Characters](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Category:Unplayed_Characters) | [Game Wiki](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Main_Page) | [Read The Game](http://xp-friends.dreamwidth.org/read) | [FAQ](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=FAQ) | [Contact Us](mailto:x_moderators@googlegroups.com) | [Follow Us on Twitter!](http://twitter.com/#!/xprojectrpg) | [Rules](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Category:Policy) | [Tumblr](http://www.tumblr.com/blog/xprojectrpg) | [Application Checklist](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Application_Checklist)  
> 


	2. Log 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma, Haller and Rachel focus on trying to find Jean.
> 
>  
> 
> _Emma played by Amanda, Haller by Tap and Rachel by Jills._

Just standing in the chamber left him feeling exposed. The vaulting ceiling and blank white panels gave the mind nothing to focus on. He wondered if it was by design. Probably, he suspected. Distraction would defeat the purpose. 

Right now Jim would have given the world for a distraction.

The room's other occupant stood at the edge of the walkway in silence. Like him, she wasn't looking at anything in particular. Nothing but the world inside her mind.

"Rachel?" 

"Hmmm?" Her inquiring hum in response was belated and faint, sounding like it had come from a distance away. She gave no other indication that she had heard him, her stillness unnatural even in their stark surroundings. It was followed by a long protracted silence and an empty beat before she blinked and tilted her head slightly in his direction, every motion seeming to require deliberation and effort. "What's up, bro?" 

"You're quiet." Something about Cerebro's construction drank any possible reverberations from the loaded statement. While it didn't carry the same triteness of asking the question outright, the clear implication was "Are you okay?" 

If Rachel read his underlying concern, she made no indication of it as she shrugged lightly, turning vacant green eyes back towards the equally blank panels. He hadn’t said much on the way in either, she could have pointed out. But although they were standing a mere few feet from each other, it was as though there were miles and a thousand-foot drop separating the two – a single misstep could send either of them careening off the edge and into the abyss.

“Just thinking.” She made a vague, abortive gesture at the headset between them. “My telepathy is whacked, I’m not sure if I can help.” 

"Yeah, mine too. It'll be okay. We're not the ones who'll be doing most of the work." He tilted his head to catch her green eyes with his blue and brown. "You know that's not what I meant, kiddo," he said softly.

Her blank soldier's mask wavered slightly -- a mere tightening at the corners of her eyes -- before it smoothed out again. "I'll be fine. I just hate waiting." 

Jim's own expression didn't flicker. _Fine._ Yes, of course. She was fine. After the destruction of Muir Island. After failing to have even a chance to prevent it. After losing her parents for what, to her, was the second time. For a single mad instant the older man almost forced the point when something stopped him.

 _Because your intentions would be pure, wouldn't they?_ whispered a poisonous little voice in the back of his mind. _You wouldn't be trying to push her because it keeps you from thinking about how fine_ you _are, now would you?_

The door to the chamber whispered open, the slightest change of air pressure and silence, broken suddenly by the harsh click-click of Emma's heeled boots, a purposeful march. "Well," she said, stopping in front of the chair below Cerebro's interface. "It appears it's up to us. Someone needs to find Jean and it appears we've been delegated." She looked at the interface and quivered slightly in distaste. "Cerebro isn't even close to my favourite toy at the best of times, and this is hardly the best of times. But, let me guess, neither of you wants to be lead rider in the charge into the Astral Plane, either?"

Jim rubbed the back of his head, trying to disguise his relief at Emma's appearance. "We're both working with handicaps," he conceded. "Rachel's telepathy was damaged when she was pulled out of the astral plane. Mine twisted in during the developmental stage, so I can't usually receive without making an effort. Diving into Cerebro alone would probably make my head explode. We've got power between us, but . . ." The words "Usually this would be Jean's job" hung unspoken and obvious between the three of them.

Emma’s smile was a cold twist of her lips. “If it ever came down to brute strength, I’m fairly certain both Jean and Charles would be able to annihilate me. But I can promise you, there is no-one better at working with telepaths with “handicaps”.” She reached out a hand and touched Cerebro’s control panel lightly. “I know it doesn’t tend to come easily to telepaths, but I would ask only that you trust me and you do everything you can to keep your shields down while we do this. If you can do that, I can find a way to work around the damage and access what I need. It will just be easier if I can concentrate on the search and not having to keep shoring up our interface.” 

"Yes, ma'am," Rachel said, moving away from the edge of the walkway and closer to the control panel. She was all business and grim determination now, mission parameters giving all of them something more important to focus on than internal breakdowns and insidious thoughts. "I'm ready when you are." 

Emma raised an eyebrow at Jim, accepted his silent nod as an indication that he was also ready. With the slightest shiver of distaste she touched the control panel to set everything in motion, lowered herself into Cerebro's chair and waited as the interface lowered itself onto her head. The jolt as she let her mind expand into Cerebro's sphere (and expand and expand and expand, a dizzying whirl of sensation and falling into minds and touching everything and STOP!) and then draw herself away from that and back into the room, was startling. With an unvoiced ~I hate that~ echoing only inside her own head, she reached out to Jim, pleased to note the courtesy of dropped shields, and tapped lightly at his telepathic centre. ~Ready?~ she asked.

In response, the burden of maintaining the interface was taken completely from Emma's hands and into Jim's. Her mind was as he remembered it from Genosha: clear and precise, like the crystalline structures that composed her diamond form. In contrast, Rachel's mind was like a solitary patch of clear sky in a cloudy day. Trouble lay beyond, but determination and purpose cut through everything like a shaft of sunlight. Jim flooded his power through her own and carried both into Emma. In the same way crystals flourished in water and heat, her natural structures drew strength from the active influx of energy. This, at least, he could do.

It had been Jean and Nathan he'd first done this with, he realized, but there was no room for grief or bitterness here, and the thought passed with barely a ripple.

~I have this,~ he replied. ~Whenever you're ready.~

The weight of maintaining the interface lifted from her mind, Emma reached carefully into the deep well of power that Jim had so easily carried to her. She took a moment to sift and sample what was offered, making sure she could identify each participant easily and bring them in or out of the search as needed or as their “handicap” demanded. Once she was comfortable with what she was doing, Emma took a deep mental breath and tapped deeply into their combined telepathic strengths and sent it into Cerebro.

Emma’s mind expanded, buttressed by the additional powers loaned so freely to her, and kept expanding. It was dizzying at first, rushing outwards so rapidly, sifting so easily through a million minds, running through her hands like grains of sand on the beach. As always, the initial rush was replaced with a feeling of nausea, quickly suppressed, and then the helplessness of trying to deal with such a crushing amount of data. Emma gave herself an angry mental shake and quickly reset her mental landscape to filter and divide the information she was receiving.

~I doubt Jean will be out in the open, but that’s our first task,~ Emma said to Jim and Rachel. ~You both know her mental signature – I can take all of this,~ her mental wave encompassed all of the data that was coming in from Cerebro, ~and divide it into three. Are you comfortable with doing a skim-read of it as I send it to you and see if Jean is hiding in plain sight?~

~Yes,~ Rachel said shortly, slightly awed at being able to grasp and wield her telepathy again. ~It's like riding a bicycle.~

Jim's reply was a half-beat behind Rachel's, delayed by a sickening sense of telepathic agoraphobia. He'd never had a fraction of the sensitivity he could feel Emma channeling.

He felt something like a hand on his shoulder: Jack, the one who always made him face uncomfortable truths. _Can't hide behind skirts and stilettos forever,_ said the voice in the back of his mind. 

Jim took a deep breath. ~Yes,~ he echoed. ~I'm ready.~

Emma's response was the slightest touch of reassurance in their minds and then she opened her mind to the entirety of the data coming in through Cerebro. Without filtering it, she split it into three streams, feeding it outwards and into the psychic centres she held within her care. Those two streams she left unread, a raw rush of millions of minds going past her, while concentrating her own thoughts on the third stream. Like diamonds in dross, mutant minds went past her, and she filtered them out of the feed, discarding the billions of minds that Cerebro deemed uninteresting and letting her mind skim over the remainder. This sweep was deeper than the first, but barely, looking only to see if there was a match for Jean's telepathic signature in the minds she scanned. It was unlikely that Jean would be in plain sight, but who knew what was happening in the mind of a woman who may just have slaughtered two million people. Perhaps she was standing on the telepathic equivalent of a mountaintop and screaming her name into the wind and waiting to to be found. Emma could only hope.

In the moments before she was flooded by the stream directed at her, Rachel neatly siphoned off a thread of Emma's powers to fill the gaps in her shredded telepathy. Then everything hit her all at once, an immense wash of sensation that she did not struggle against, choosing instead to immerse herself completely within the tidal wave of consciousness that rushed past her presence as though she were soaking in the middle of a tsunami. 

Hand to her heart, Rachel had missed this feeling of control over her own mind, never mind that she had no say in the face the enormity of Cerebro's capabilities. She broadened the range of her sweep with an ease that stemmed from years of training, flitting fleetingly through the rapids of minds and trusting that she would know if she had found Jean. 

Jim tried to calm himself against the flood of minds. If you stood firm against it the pressure would break you, he realized, and so the answer was to bend. Minds streamed past him like leaves in a fall gale. _Like a reed in the wind._

Yet he was puzzled. The astral plane was enormous, that was true, but in India Jean had shown herself capable of a massive display of power -- she was burning hot and bright, and someone like that shouldn't have been hard to find. Now and then a passing mind brought him close enough to feel an old eddy of power, but that was psychic residue. Had she become so strong she could mask herself even from Cerebro?

Then, suddenly, he sensed a familiar warmth. Not by the new scar in India, but a different one, an older one. ~I feel something,~ he said, breaking the silence of their work. ~It's strange -- nebulous --~

~There's nothing about this experience that isn't strange,~ observed Emma, allowing her mind to reach out towards Jim's and assess the information he was drawing out of the stream of minds. And then there was another one, a flitter of warmth and familiarity that drew Emma's attention. She touched on Rachel's mind, gave her what, in a less nebulous place than the Astral Plane, she would have called specifications and reached out again, in a more concentrated search. ~I don't think she's there,~ she sent out as the next mind with that trace drifted out of Cerebro's depths. ~More like - Jean's been there. Brushed against these people when she moved.~ Another mind, a minnow's trail in the ocean, but another step outwards.

If there was one thing that Rachel was familiar with, it was the Astral Plane. She tied herself to Emma like a life line and dove deeper into the flood on the older woman's instructions and pinged up another thought her companions. ~If by nebulous, you mean heavy? Hazy? It's probably buried under something.~ It was followed by a short pause as Rachel rapidly split off a corner of her consciousness and sought out Haller's mind through their shared link to assess his findings. The new sensation washed over her on top of the flood she was floating in. ~Yeah. Like a body of water. But... is that what Jean feels like?~

~No, not normally. Her presence is usually light and distinct -- like this.~ The thought was accompanied by a memory of Jean's usual psi-signature: a bright, core punctuated by the occasional pulse of energy, like a steady flame.

As he was still acclimating to the task Jim had largely allowed himself to be carried in the women's wakes. Now that they were zeroing in on an area, however, he began to feel more comfortable; it was easier to treat the endeavor as a normal search. He settled around the area Rachel was focusing on and began to send out more active feelers, weaving through the other two telepath's minds like searchers performing a grid-sweep. ~This doesn't make sense,~ he remarked. ~We should be picking up her signal before whatever traces she left.~

~I think she's in hiding,~ responded Emma. ~Deep hiding. The Box kind of hiding.~ She paused as she caught another hint of a mind intersected, fed the data into the grid/map/coordinates they were building together. ~But where she's hiding, she had to go there and there were people on the way. We're following her trail. Where she was, not where she is.~

If they were anywhere but where they were, Emma and Haller would probably have sensed Rachel's metaphorical eyeroll and huff. Because they clearly either were not listening to her or had not understood what she meant. But that's okay. ~Then we follow her trail. And she'll be where the trail stops.~ 

Jim nodded, thinking of the traces and what Rachel had said. Given the quality of the signals they'd been picking up he'd thought she'd been speaking metaphorically, but perhaps . . .

_Like a body of water . . ._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> X-Project is an X-Men Movieverse/MCU RPG on Dreamwidth. It started in 2003, set right after the second X-Men movie, and from there took on a life of its own. Thirteen years later it’s become a universe all its own, and includes characters from all walks of Marvel life – no character is too small or too obscure for X-Project. We roleplay mainly through writing logs on email, as well as posts on Dreamwidth.
> 
> If you're interested, check out the below links!
> 
>   
> [Welcome to X-Project](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Welcome_To_X-Project) | [Application](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Application) | [Available Characters](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Category:Unplayed_Characters) | [Game Wiki](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Main_Page) | [Read The Game](http://xp-friends.dreamwidth.org/read) | [FAQ](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=FAQ) | [Contact Us](mailto:x_moderators@googlegroups.com) | [Follow Us on Twitter!](http://twitter.com/#!/xprojectrpg) | [Rules](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Category:Policy) | [Tumblr](http://www.tumblr.com/blog/xprojectrpg) | [Application Checklist](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Application_Checklist)  
> 


	3. Log 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They find Jean but run into unexpected resistance.
> 
>  
> 
> _Clarice played by Mo', Namor by Walks, Rogue by Zoila, Emma by Amanda, Haller by Tap, Rachel Kinross-Dayspring by Jills, Lorna by Rei, Megan by Marlena, Julian by Ryan._

The sun was about to set, casting waves of purple and red across the waters of the Atlantic. But for now the light remained. The ocean was calm. There was barely a cloud in the sky. It would have been a lovely day for an outing. But that calm was disturbed by the roar of engines cutting through the water as the Blackbird neared its target. 

It was quiet and somber in the Blackbird. Rogue was finding it hard to stay still, her foot tapping on the ground. It was one thing after another, after another and here they were, with no time to process anything. The quiet was driving her crazy.

"Namor," she said, breaking the silence, "this here's your turf. Can you jus' explain to me again what to expect? I ain't never been to Atlantis before..."

"Attilan, not Atlantis," came with the practiced tone of someone used to correcting this mistake on a daily basis.

Namor himself was in the middle of securing his wetsuit during this intrusion, but even he could not frown at a break in the tension. He fiddled with the camera apparatus attached to his ear while continuing, "However, being truly deep in the ocean is an experience like no other. Metaphors fail to do it justice."

"You'll understand if no one cares about the beauty of it all," Clarice put in as she put aside her medical kit, "This isn't a sight seeing mission." Not after their losses.

"Underwater is to Namor as the sky is to me," Pixie piped up in an odd tone. "Movement in all planes. Freedom from the distractions on land." The memory of sitting in Cat's deli seemed like a lifetime ago, faded like the day's light. Her wings clattered in nervous anticipation for the task at hand.

Lorna stopped the Blackbird near the location on the radar. She moved away from her seat and made adjustments on her own wetsuit, including several pounds of metal that was laced around her arms and legs. "Alright, Team. This is Jean we are talking about so I don't want to use our powers against her unless it is completely necessary. However, due to recent events, be cautious." Lorna looked away for a brief moment, remembering the events on Muir Island. It was very obvious that Lorna was troubled. "We are going to treat this as a rescue...with just a suppressor with us."

"And how do we know she wants to be rescued?" Julian descended the ramp, the dry suit he'd purchased for sky diving with Tandy a stark contrast of color to the others around him. He forced himself not to think of Tandy, remembering the advice that it would get easier with time if he practiced it. 

The suppressor was in his hands, since he could use his ability to control it from a distance. "For the record, I've trained with Jean...if she doesn't want our help...we are going too be in for a hell of a fight." The slight buzz from the scotch he'd swilled at the start of the mission was wearing off.

"Jean is one of our teammates, a teacher, our nurse, and one of my best friends." She pressed the button, rather hard, to have the back of the plane opening up. "She would be doing the same thing if it was one of us." She grabbed a face mask with a tank of oxyggen. "Just be on the alert and we have to be quick about it. We are also dealing with a Telepath."

Pixie put on her mask and gear as practiced. The water looked dark, not like movement and freedom. "Will O' Wisp," she whispered, summoning a small version of her light spell.

Fully suited, Rogue sighed heavily. It was do or die time. "Alright folks,now's the time to say your peace. Once we get there, there's no turnin' back, eh, Polaris." Codename time. The mission was starting.

Shifting her oxygen tank on? her back, Rogue gave a little wave. "See y'all on the flip side," she stated before putting in her mouth applicator and diving in.

Someone had to go first.

Tying her hair back with a ponytail, Clarice fit her goggles on, "Alright. Here we go," she agreed, entering the water. This was either going to go really well or really horribly. She couldn't see anything in between and that terrified her.

"Namor, I will follow you." Lorna said to the younger man, "Scion stay close to the both of us." She walked out to the edge of the back of the plan before putting on her own masking and breathing gear over her face before jumping in.

She got a nod for this, and Namor tapped his earpiece experimentally. "Testing?" Good. He swan-dived gracefully into the water, unburdened by breathing apparatus, oxygen tank, or flippers.

"Testing again." His voice was oddly clear although submerged. "Good. Now the video feed." A flip for the battery, and --

"Receiving," came Haller's voice through the earpiece as the screens on the Blackbird came alive. "All teams receiving." The X-Man was uncomfortable with this on a number of levels. Utilizing Cerebro had been pushing his comfort levels, but it had gotten the job done. Telepathically hijacking a freighter to provide the search party with a staging area, however, had been a bit much for his taste. Unfortunately once Jean's location had become clear Emma had pointed out, with her inexorable logic, that given the realities of sea travel it was much more expedient to forgo a yacht rental and simply pressgang the nearest vessel. He hoped the crew were at least getting a sound sleep below decks.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Jim added, privately, ~Lorna, be careful.~

~I'll be back before you know it.~ Lorna said back to Jim. She led the group down into the murky depths carefully checking the pressure gauge every so often. "Okay, she should be in this general location." Checking her depth meter once more before swimming down a couple more meters before seeing something glowing a little deeper. "I think I spotted her. About 10 meters further down. This is going to be difficult putting on the suppressor down here. We might have to teleport her to the surface and do it there."

At that, Clarice turned away from the group and headed back, climbing out the water almost as quickly as she had jumped in. "I need visual," she stated, discarding what she could before joining Haller. The water was too dark and cloudy for her to do it in the water. It would difficult enough using the cameras. "As good as we can get it."

Jim was staring at the screen. He could understand why Lorna had only asserted she _thought_ she could see Jean. A patch of the ocean floor was unnaturally bright, illuminated by a sphere of light. At its core was a spot of darkness: a humanoid shape, curled in a fetal position.

_What the hell is going on?_

"We may need more than the feed," Jim said after a moment, telepathically alerting Emma and Rachel that their presence would be required on deck. "Everyone, get to the ship and be ready, please. Namor . . ." the Attilani wasn't an X-Man, but he was tough, and the water was his element. ". . . stay where you are, but back up as far as you can while maintaining visibility. I'm going to link you and Clarice for a visual."

Namor craned his neck to get a better visual of the mess of bodies above. They sat backlit against what would be the sky on dry land, but here, in his domain, it hardly mattered. He was much quicker and more agile in the water, and his ability to withstand the pressure of the depths that psychic probing had revealed Jean have sequestered herself in was the reason he was here. "Yessir."

He swam back a little and circled the glowing cocoon. There was an impact crater barely visible over the glow and buzz of psychic energy, and everything else living had abandoned this stretch of ocean before they arrived. "Miss Blink, please confirm when I am in position." Codenames were no reason to abandon propriety completely.

"You're fine, stay in position Namor," he knew what she thought of his propriety, but now was not the time or the place. How was it that they managed to survive Genosha, she'd been nuked! and yet, this was their match.

A purple glow appeared in the water, then imploded in on itself only to reappear almost simultaneously on the deck of the ship. Jean and the water around her came through, the water splashing across the deck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> X-Project is an X-Men Movieverse/MCU RPG on Dreamwidth. It started in 2003, set right after the second X-Men movie, and from there took on a life of its own. Thirteen years later it’s become a universe all its own, and includes characters from all walks of Marvel life – no character is too small or too obscure for X-Project. We roleplay mainly through writing logs on email, as well as posts on Dreamwidth.
> 
> If you're interested, check out the below links!
> 
>   
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	4. Log 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean is found, but then the Imperial Guard arrives and insist on taking her into custody.
> 
>  
> 
> _Imperial Guard socked by Dex._

Jim initiated a brief switch to carry himself down to join the others around the cocoon, providing Clarice with a slightly unnecessary lift. He alighted next to the gathered group to inspect their findings.

Exposed to air the cocoon was almost pearl-like. It shimmered softly, almost serenely, a translucent bubble protecting a solid core. Jean hung suspended in the center, hair floating around her face as if she were still submerged. She looked as if she were asleep.

Emma saw the cocoon as she ascended the staircase that brought her above decks. She flicked out a quick, shallow probe, skimming round the edge of the cocoon to confirm that there was no trace of Jean's telepathic signature outside of it. Jean had totally closed herself down inside it. "The crew are under control," Emma reported. "And safely tucked away in their beds. Which is considerably safer than we're about to be," she observed, almost to herself.

Pixie stared, transfixed, her all-black eyes reflecting a faint glow. She flew up and hovered to get a closer look, then slowly sank back down to the deck of the freighter. "Is she... okay? Is that thing magic? Is it hurting her?"

"Doubt it," Rachel said shortly, eyeing the cacoon, spinning a similar but blue tinted bubble around her right hand to illustrate her ping. She had bounced around in them as a child all the time. Drove people absolutely insane. "It's a Telekinetic shield. Probably Jean trying to protect herself."

Rogue had held back, and not said much, more because she didn't trust herself. The last time she'd seen Jean, well...things hadn't gone too well. knowing that, she couldn't help herself. "Let's poke it," she said, trying to sound cheerful. "It's like a pinata, only we get an unstable telepath."

Looking around, the joke was obviously lost on everyone. "Well don't y'all laugh at once," she grumbled. "Lorna, think ya could fashion some sorta poking stick? Something long so if she wakes up madder than a bear in winter, we got some reaction time?". A pause. "And jus' so we're clear, I know mah place - invulnerable girl will do the pokin'."

"Poke it?" Lorna gave Rogue a look of a 'Do you really want to poke something'. "Last time I poked something it tried to eat one of my teammates." However, metal started to melt off her wet suit into a long metal pole shape that was almost a good ten feet long. "Here. Try and not poke her too hard, Okay?" Handing Rogue the pole.

With a nod, Rogue took the pole and motioned to everyone to back up. Wrapping both her hands around the pole, she carefully put the tip on the edge of the cocoon. She pushed slightly, and was surprised to ?see it change colour. Encouraged by this, Rogue poked a bit harder and the orange colour intensified.

And then the fires started. Every time she poked, it was as if a Flare was being sent up with sparks shooting everywhere. Giving it one last poke, actual flames shot up, causing Rogue to jump and drop.the pole. "That didn't work too well, did it?". Biting on her bottom lip, she turned to Emma and Haller.

"One of you wanna try?"

Emma had already weighed the possibilities in her head. She inclined her head at Jim. "You know I have to ask. I'm the only fully functional telepath left and I can go diamond to protect myself, if there's an earth-shattering kaboom. We are going to need to keep one of us intact or we'll lose control of the crew and this situation is complicated enough already."

Jim hesitated. They didn't have many options. They couldn't leave her on the ship. He briefly considered loading the cocoon onto the Blackbird before noticing the metal immediately beneath the construct had begun to warp. "Everyone back up," he said at last. "I'll do it. Rachel, Lorna, be ready to shield in case this goes bad. Julian, stand by with the suppressor, please."

The telepath dropped into a seated position a few yards from Jean, briefly noting Namor alighting on the deck to join the others. This was dangerous, and not just because of the cocoon's reaction to stimuli. He was about to put his mind up against someone who had destroyed an entire city. There was no telling what would happen - to him, to her, or to anyone.

Yet no matter what she had done or might have done this was still Jean, and Charles and Scott were still waiting for her. He owed them. All of them.

That was really all there was to it. One breath, another, and Jim reached out.

~Jean? Jean, can you hear me?~

Her world wasn't dreamless. She wished it was. There was never a moment where she could just be left alone. The memories tormented her, mixtures of good ones that turned bad. Of death, of destruction. Nathan, Moira, Sharon, Yvette. Sam. Matt. Others. Erik. She had killed Erik and the Brotherhood. It was so easy. It didn't take much for a body to burn. They'd learned about it in medical school. She'd killed them with just a thought. It had never been that easy, yet...it was just like lighting a match. And it felt good. She felt vindicated, and powerful, and all knowing. Those were the thoughts that horrified her.

When the memories grew tired of replaying over and over in her mind they soon turned into dreams. Dreams of another world, of multiple worlds, the same but different. Worlds where she reigned supreme, bringing fire and chaos to where ever she touched. Worlds where her name was spoken in a hushed whisper, as if saying it might bring her forth. But there was no need to whisper. Her mere presence signaled destruction. Nothing was safe. I am become death, destroyer of worlds. 

It was like standing on the edge of what could be, with her back to the sun and darkness down below.

Someone was knocking. All she wanted was to stay in control. For that she needed to be alone. But she could never be left alone. Why?

The cocoon started to crack like an egg, and then something exploded from it: a phoenix, it's wings the width of the entire freighter as they spread throughout the sky and the boat itself. In the center was Jean, her arms outstretched, eyes closed as she floated into standing from her once fetal position. The explosion brought with it a show of telekinetic force, violently shoving backward anything in its path. The phoenix let out a scream of warning that seemed to echo not just in one's ears, but their minds as well.

Jean's eyes snapped open, flames pouring out of her eyes and mouth.

Rachel's reaction was swift and instinctive, a solid barrier of telekinetic energy snapping up and around them in a millisecond. It was assaulted immediately, a torrent of Jean's telekinesis battering relentlessly at her shield. Wave upon wave of searing hot energy crashed down upon her powers, forcing Rachel to keep up or let all of them die young.

The younger redhead gritted her teeth and pushed back with a whine at the back of her throat, physically bracing her booted feet against the floor as she minimised her barrier to pull the team in around her and thickened it exponentially.

Outside of her bubble of blue, the metal surfaces of the ship started to melt away from the destructive nature of Jean's powers, shipping containers buckling and caving as Rachel tried and failed to gather enough energy to return the blast to Jean.

There was too much and it burned.

"Jim," she gasped through tightly grief teeth, desperate and with far more emotion than anyone had seen since Muir had gone under. "Hurry up. I can't--."

Jim caught only a glimpse of the inner turmoil before the connection broke, forcibly disabled by an instinctive shift to telekinesis. His shields snapped into place almost instantly, but when he opened his eyes he discovered a sheet of deck had peeled off to act as a barrier: Lorna had his back.

"Scion!" Jack barked, bolstering Rachel's shields with his own - the pressure was incredible. "Suppressor!"

He'd been pushed to the sidelines when the chaos broke out on the deck of the freighter, but now he followed the directions he'd been given at the mansion to the letter, turning on the collar like device and opening the latch with a quick sequence of coded buttons. Julian resisted the temptation to shout out that he had this, Jean would already know he was there, and the fact that she hadn't shredded his mind at their leader's command spoke favorably to his chances of success.

Moving himself forward from behind one of the bulky shipping containers, he spotted Jean in the maelstrom of energy she was putting out. Letting himself shut his eyes, he used his training to reach out and feel a way through the various barriers and tendrils of force she was twisting to serve her. The suppressor hung in the air for a moment, waiting what seemed like an eternity before he found the opening he needed. It zipped forward, dodging debris and counter force, which grew increasingly more difficult as it got closer to her. Finally, it seemed to disappear all together, flying straight up in the air and out of sight.

With a final push, Julian brought the collar back down, through the eye of the maelstrom, settling it in just behind his former teacher's slender neck. With a final push he sent it forward and let the machine do the rest, letting go as he felt the lock click into place.

Voices rang out from all around, familiar ones. But it was an assault on the senses..people screaming (was it real or just a memory?), and thoughts and emotions, and pain. She could barely see anything but light. It was like waking from a nightmare and she hadn't had time to even try to return to reality when she felt something close around her throat.

Jean cried out with a choked breath and the phoenix disappeared, an inferno extinguished. She hit the deck unmercifully, curling up into a ball as she began to shake uncontrollably, though it was hard to tell if it was from the suppressor or Jean herself. Maybe it was both. The voices were gone, and in their place a haze that spread from her mind to the rest of her body. She felt numb, but it didn't bring her peace. Something was happening. Something beyond her. Beyond this.

"Help me," she whispered to no one, as tears welled up and started to stream down her face. No one could help her now.

"Jean!" Lorna cried out as she came around from hiding and protecting Haller. She ran over to Jean on the deck and knelt beside her, afraid to touch her. "Jean, we are here. We are going to take you home. Okay?" She didn't know what she could do for her friend but just help her back to the Blackbird.

At Jean's words, Rogue's heart broke. This was her mentor, her older sister, and she was in pain. Zipping over to her discarded clothing, Rogue picked up her sweater before rushing back to Jean's side. Carefully, she placed the sweater on Jean's shoulders. "It'll be okay, Jean," Rogue said, her voice wavering slightly from emotion. With her hands slightly cold from the wetsuit's gloves, she brushed away the hair from Jean's face, tucking it behind her ears. "We're all here, and we're gonna help ya. Jus' like Lorna said, we're gonna go home, and we're gonna figure this all out, like the team we are. Y'all jus' wait and see."

Namor, for his part, hadn't moved far from where he had originally landed on deck. This was an X-Men matter, and despite all previous team work and training he had never been part of that group. Jean, now a dangerous wildcard, and he had spent a year and a half spent moving in different circles. There were no personal stakes here for the Attilani - his own interests were squarely with Attilan and the larger picture.

His square-shouldered, serious demeanor reflected this as he kept his eyes to the sea despite the psychic lightshow that played off the scattered metal shipping containers on deck and the disturbing bouts of fire that were only held off by Rachel's shields. This situation was violate and dangerous, and Namor's stance reflected this opinion instead of an overwhelming need to help their beloved fugitive.

It was for this reason that Namor was the first to notice the dots quickly approaching on the horizon. Too large for birds and too small for aircraft, their silhouettes reminded the young man of - "Incoming!"

The seven figures came in formation, and in the distance, the outline of a V-22 Osprey could be seen following the same flight path. As they got closer, the green, white and saffron of their uniforms could be seen, marking them as members of India's Imperial Guard. They had tangled with them before, stopping D.Ken Nerumani's attempt to conquer Pakistan and purge India of dissidents. The man at the front was Dacoit, who outdistanced his teammates and came to a stop in the air above the ship.

"X-Men. The government of India demands that you surrender Jean Grey."

Jim stepped forward, arms spread. "I'm sorry, but we can't," he replied. "We understand your concerns, but there's something else going on -- some kind of dimensional distortion, something global. We don't know how, but we have reason to believe it's tied to Jean." He gestured to where Jean knelt, dazed and shivering on the deck. "Professor Xavier is familiar with her capabilities, and we have specialists at the mansion capable of analyzing and suppressing her powers. The technology works, you can see that for yourself. We're the only ones equipped to get to the bottom of all this, and if we let you take her now we may have more than the fate of one city on our hands."

"No. Even if your words were the complete truth, X-Man, over two million Indians were killed in that blast and in the coming months, another million might be added to that total. We have her image on a hundred cameras. There is no doubt she was involved. If she is indeed innocent, that will come from a trial. But we will be the ones to conduct it." Behind, the rest of the Guard was forming up. Dacoit's expression actually softened for a moment.

"She is your teammate, X-Man. I know that. But the dead are ours, and that must be answered to our satisfaction first."

Jim wished Charles were here. The professor was the diplomat: he would have known what to say, what to do. At the very least he should have let the iron-willed, corporate-savvy Emma take the lead. Instead he had been the one to open his mouth, trying to explain the potential ramifications of something he himself didn't fully comprehend.

"You're risking more if you take her back without full understanding of the situation," Jim pointed out, trying one last time to appeal to reason. The Guard was now fully massed behind Dacoit, an intimidating wall of hard-eyed combatants. "Give us time to find out what's happening and stop it if we can. After that . . . after that, we can deal with the rest."

"No." Lorna said standing up looking at the new arrivals. "I am in charge of this mission of bring her back to back. She obviously needs medical attention and is not fit to stand trail for anything - at least not at the moment. Look at her. Does she look capable of standing trail? She needs medical attention and we can give that to her."

"I am not asking you, X-Men. We will take Ms Grey, with or without your cooperation. We do not wish to hurt you, but if you try and stop us, we are willing to use any means necessary."

"Oh, enough!," called out Rogue. The emotion was starting to take over, and her voice was raised. "Really? Really? Y'all are gonna go all crazy on us then?" She stood up, eyes narrowed, hands on hips. "We are tryin' to explain things to you, that this here ain't somethin' that y'all can even begin to understand. No one is in a better position to get answers than us. You use our team name, so you know who we are. You know what we're capable of. You know, that if you try to force our hand here, we can't jus' let y'all take her. If you're sayin' you're gonna use any means necessary, well, that jus' means to me that you're already at that place. Them's harsh words to be throwin' out in a regular conversation."

"Guardmen, take her." Dacoit said, motioning at Jean. The X-Men were forced to scatter as various energy beams smashed down, providing covering fire as he landed on the deck.

"Not on my watch," Clarice stepped in front of Jean, a portal already opening so all they had to do was step back into it. She could slide it under them if she had to, but she would rather not risk the integrity of the ship on accident. "She stays with us."

The sonic attack drove Blink to her knees, convinced that her eardrums were burst. Waves of sonic and flame attacks swept over the deck as the Guardsmen landed. The portal disappeared like an early dew, as Clarice rolled on the ground covering her ears from the sound attack.

Gritting her teeth against the sounds, Rogue started to fly towards the guards when it suddenly felt like there was a vise grip on her neck. She couldn't move forward, and it was getting harder and harder to breathe.

Kicking her legs furiously while simultaneously trying to claw at her throat, she wasn't succeeding at breaking free.

The hair on the back of Jim's neck rose as he watched one of their strongest fighters writhing helplessly; a frantic search for her attacker drew his attention to a blue-skinned woman with a face locked in concentration. Telekinesis.

Jack burst to the fore with a wave of his own telekinesis sudden enough to break Kala-mu-l-la-h's concentration; Rogue was released only moments from total asphyxia. Without even faltering the psionic turned her attention to the attacker, meeting Haller's assault with one of her own. The X-Man staggered, driven back by a sleet of telekinetic energy against his shields.

Yet that wasn't the last of it. The Guard's telekinetic assault against Haller was quickly joined a stream of blazing plasma that bounced dangerously, spluttering and gnawing holes in the deck floor. This was differed, however, as a chunk of sharp metal hit Dhu-m-ketu, Starbolt, in the right shoulder. The man - presumably, as this Imperial Guard member was currently cloaked in flames with only the grinning semblance of a human skull exposed in the flame torrent that would be his hair - flared in anger, attention diverted to the shirtless mutant now yelling on deck as the Guard began to disperse in order to deal with individual targets.

"I, Namor, Marques de McKenzie, Heir Apparent to the Dukedom of Thakkor, of the Royal Line of Agon, demand as the Ranking Member of the Attilan Royal Family that you stand down immediately."

This got Namor, who was hovering near the ship's edge, to draw another blast of fire. He dodged.  
"This is already an international incident and we do," he lugged another dislodged piece of metal to keep Starbolt's attention, "Not need to encourage," and another dodge matched with the haughtiest of smirks, "Further shows of force. After all, the Khusrawi Agoriya were never a match for Attilan."

The bait worked. Starbolt's yellow flames were now pulsing, and he moved away from the deck to chase the Attlani noble over the open water. They flew, Namor swooping to trade with a long piece of metal recovered from Lorna's handiwork, as Starbolt fired blast after blast that fizzled in the ocean spray. The mist created a cover that both hid and assisted Namor as he ducked under the water to avoid the bolts of flaming plasma that were more on point.

On the deck of the ship, Julian leaned against one of the shipping containers, winded from the exertion with Jean and the inhibitor. His hair began to raise on end, the taste of ozone preceded the first jolt of electricity that tossed Julian into the next nearest container. His head ringing, the ex-scion slowly stood and noticed the man standing at the other end of the aisle of containers. Blue tendrils of electrical energy arced from container to container in front of him, hovering there, controlled by the uniformed man. "Shit," Julian muttered, as the web of energy pulsed towards him. 

The first jolt caught his shields, which promptly dropped, allowing the second one to blast into him and knocking him to the ground. The guardsman walked forward casually, another web of energy threading together. This time, Julian was ready- a shipping container came down before him, dissipating the blast. He tried to bring it down on the guardsman, but his foe was exerting some form of control over the metal. To make matters worse, the container was now arcing energy down around them onto the deck of the metal ship, and he could feel the bursts of electricity bouncing against his telekinetic hold on large crate. "Shit!" he swore again, going to a knee and trying to keep his focus. 

Lorna counter Electron's attack on Julian by a well placed Magnetic Blast. Lifting one of the containers she threw one towards Electron but never left her post besides Jean.

Pixie darted into the air as all hells broke loose on deck. A tingle of negative energy caused her to dodge a bolt of darkforce by the thickness of her wings. She looked over her shoulder to see another and another being fired from the Guard's hands. She dove and changed directions, trying to make herself a difficult target for the flier. She summoned her dust to the surface of her skin and wings, although it seemed unlikely she'd be able to dust him - and she wasn't sure whom she'd be dusting in the chaos below. Did the Guard know her and what her powers were? She wasn't sure but she hoped not. "Will O' Wisp," she whispered into the wind, summoning her were-light. The little ball of green light grew into a flaming ball. Hopefully it looked more powerful than it was as it flew off towards the enemy flier. He wouldn't be able to fire upon her as easily if he was concerned with return fire.

A lance of black energy stabbed through the flaming ball, forcing Pixie to dodge awkwardly as it popped her blast like a soap bubble. A second one nearly took off her leg at the knee, and suddenly Pixie found herself hemmed in, an easy target for a final and fatal blast.

Rachel lunged forward and through the chaos from where she had been guarding Jean with a fierce scowl and a heavy frown. She grabbed and pulled a rush of telekinesis tight towards her with a one second charge before shoving, snapping the power forward in a wide arc towards Pixie's attacker and simultaneously yanking him towards the crippling force of her attack to maximize the impact and throw off his attack on the winged mutant.

The psion succeeded, but only partially, and she cursed sharply ("Fuck!") as Black Light's follow up attack on Pixie flew wide, inky black energy missing her head but clipping her in the middle of her delicate right wing.

Rachel levered herself up and over the Guard, throwing up a shield around herself as the asshole shoved off her telekinetic blast and retaliated with a sharp hit that reverberated across the opaque blue shield.

The redhead growled, dropped the shield and dropped a heavy force onto the Guard, fully intent on crushing him to the grimy deck of the ship.

Pixie shrieked and nearly fell when her wing was hit. She spiraled downward, her left wing buzzing furiously. She grabbed a radio antenna and swung to land on top of the bridge only to be greeted with crossfire from Starbolt's and Namor's game of tag over the sea. They had circled closer to the ship, and Starbolt's wildfire was made even more chaotic by his inability to land a shot.

That is until he noticed a much easier, much more prone target.

The flaming Guard member pivoted in mid air and aimed at Pixie, his devil's smirk only enhanced by the hungry lick of flames from his flight form. As he fired, the howl of his blast was lost under the angry roar of the dark torpedo that moved to intercept the bolt of plasma.

"Imperius Re-"

Namor's yell quickly dissolved to painful yowls as the plasma hit, burning and peeling the young man's skin as it covered and ruined more of him. Soon there was no sound at all as his body, tiny wings on his ankles eaten away by the flames, fell lifelessly to the ship's deck.

"Namor!" Pixie shouted hysterically. She caught a glimpse of the immolated body below and turned, fleeing the Guard on foot. He'd killed Namor with a blast intended for her. She ran, choking on tears, her torn wing dragging. There was nowhere to run to on the freighter, but she had to keep moving.

Below her the Imperial Guardsman Oracle saw an opportunity. In an instant Kala-mu-l-la-h switched tactics and abandoned her telekinetic assault, instead turning her attention to the agony of Namor's last moments. The pain of blackening flesh and boiling organs, the finality of a life snuffed out, the utter powerlessness of an inescapable fate: all these she gathered to herself, honing them, amplifying them, and blasting the results at the telekinetics like a shotgun.

There was no warning. With no defense against the sudden deluge of physical pain and dying memories, Haller and Rachel fell screaming.

Rogue had been laying on the ground, gasping for air, when all this was going on around her. It wasn't until she saw Namor die trying to save Pixie that she found the strength to leap to her feet. Pixie was obviously struggling, and right at her heels was an Imperial Guard, looking ready to strike again.

Frantically looking around, she saw a shattered piece of a shipping container. That would have to do. Picking it up, she threw it right at Starbolt, the impact pushing him right into the water. From the corner of her eye, she saw the blue-skinned woman rushing to pull him out, but Rogue didn't care. Getting to Pixie, she stretched out her arms. "It's okay, I got ya, girl."

Namor didn't die in vain.

Lorna went to throw a nearby shipping container at the attackers but was headed off by Gladiator. She only had a moment to throw up a metal shield to block his attack - or so she thought. He had punched a hole right through the metal and in that moment Lorna hesitated. It seemed that he had sensed that too as another punch sent her flying back, hitting the deck with such force that her leg hit at an awkward angle, breaking the bone on impact.

In that moment Jean had been glad for once she had the suppressor on. But it didn't stop her from seeing. Namor was dead, sparking to life images of her own past deed with Magneto and his followers as the flames burned while he lay lifeless. Those that still lived were falling. They were fighting, and dying, for her.

"No, no, no no..."

Emma had taken no part in the battle, huddled down in the space between containers near Jean, staying flesh as she soothed the dreams of the crewmen, stopping them from waking and panicking and making this whole thing worse than it already was and keeping herself as safe as she could so that she could, if necessary, report back to Charles that their mission had failed. But Jean's moans rose even over the shouts and screams that were erupting around her. 

"Oh shut up," she snapped at the redhead, not even caring if Jean heard her or if it just gave her a small vent for her own feelings. "Just shut the fuck up. They're dying to save you, though the gods only know why. The least you can do is not be an ungrateful bitch about it and just Shut. The Fuck. Up."

Shaking her head, Jean's reaction was a mixture of sorrow and anger as she helplessly listened and watched the battle rage on. The woman's words were already seared on her heart, words she didn't need verbalized. "I know," she said. She never asked for this, never wanted it.

"Time to end this. Oracle?" Dacoit said, looking over to his second in command. The blue hued woman nodded and closed her eyes. The nature of psionic shields was to keep a telepath at a distance, like an old fortification. But it didn't work as well when the telepath wasn't in search mode. In this case, Oracle's remarkable powers were focused on broadcasting, and suddenly each X-Man was drowned in the dying thoughts and feelings of Namor as the plasma crisped away his skin and burned his breath from his lungs. It was exponentially greater than what the young man felt, furiously struggling for life, and it drove them to their knees.

With the last of the X-Men injured or writhing under the psychic attack, the air beside Jean suddenly shifted with a popping sound as a Guardsman appeared beside her. Musafir reached down and grabbed Jean roughly by the back of the hair.

"You can come with us now, or we can execute every X-Man here before doing you too. Take your pick." His English was rough but the deadliness of his intent was clear.

Jean didn't struggle, barely making a sound. She knew the Guardsman would make good on his word if she showed any sign of defiance. There was already one dead already at their hands. She would rather not add anymore to her conscience. 

"I'll go," she said calmly. "Just don't hurt them anymore. Please." She still didn't know what they thought she had done, but from the sound of it it was nothing good.

A moment they were there and the next, the deck of the ship was bare. Jean Grey was gone to whatever fate the Guard had planned for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> X-Project is an X-Men Movieverse/MCU RPG on Dreamwidth. It started in 2003, set right after the second X-Men movie, and from there took on a life of its own. Thirteen years later it’s become a universe all its own, and includes characters from all walks of Marvel life – no character is too small or too obscure for X-Project. We roleplay mainly through writing logs on email, as well as posts on Dreamwidth.
> 
> If you're interested, check out the below links!
> 
>   
> [Welcome to X-Project](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Welcome_To_X-Project) | [Application](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Application) | [Available Characters](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Category:Unplayed_Characters) | [Game Wiki](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Main_Page) | [Read The Game](http://xp-friends.dreamwidth.org/read) | [FAQ](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=FAQ) | [Contact Us](mailto:x_moderators@googlegroups.com) | [Follow Us on Twitter!](http://twitter.com/#!/xprojectrpg) | [Rules](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Category:Policy) | [Tumblr](http://www.tumblr.com/blog/xprojectrpg) | [Application Checklist](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Application_Checklist)  
> 


	5. Log 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The remaining commanders discuss what to do about Jean and the Guard.
> 
>  
> 
> _Remy played by Dex, Scott by AJ, Emma by Amanda, Doug by Twiller, Rogue by Zoila, Haller by Tap, Storm by Erin, Angelo by Kate, Wanda by Jen._

The CIC of the mansion was used to being filled with men and women in X-Men leathers, deploying by Blackbird to face one threat or another, ready to risk everything to save the day. The problem with risking everything is that eventually it catches up with you, and the butcher's bill of injured and dead amoungst the ranks of the X-Men were crippling. Remy leaned back in the chair, watching as the last of the information was uploaded to the holographic projector. Scott had to be helped to his chair, and slumped there from a cocktail of pain and exhaustion, ceding the floor to Remy.

"De situation is getting 'bout as dire as Remy ever scene. India has just suffered de second nuclear attack in less den five years at de hands of a mutant. De media has gone long past ugly and it wouldn't surprise me to see new anti-mutant legislation fast-tracked within de week. On top of dat, de Indian government confirmed to Xavier dat dey have Jean Grey in custody and based on de evidence, have her cold for de deaths of over 2 million citizens and counting. Before we go any further, Remy saw first hand dat it was Jean. But it didn't look right." He had already explained their hijacking of Apocalypse's teleport to escape ahead of the blast. "Hard to explain, but she looked... younger, maybe. So, what's de likelihood dat dey could have de wrong person?"

"Wrong person, right person, does it matter?" asked Emma. "With all the versions of us falling out of holes in the sky, who can tell which Jean it was they took? All I know is that the one on the boat wanted to go with the Guard rather than keep the fight going. Maybe because she was "our" Jean. Maybe because she killed two million people and was feeling guilty." Emma shrugged. "Maybe both. Or neither."

Doug tapped the fingers of his good hand against the table, considering Remy's question. "Given that my group faced some kind of...doppelgangers of ourselves, I'd say the possibility can't be ruled out?" Seeing himself as a Nazi had been disquieting. On top of that, the idea of Jean murdering over two million people just...didn't make sense. But then, very little of recent events was making much sense.

"It wasn't Jean," Scott said with an air of finality, "She wouldn't, couldn't do that," Scott had no idea what was happening right now, he had been at the mansion for decades now and was used to well the unusual but this was like nothing that he'd ever seen. Yet no matter what was going on he knew one thing, "she's not a killer. It could be one of these alternates, or maybe," Scott rubbed his head and sighed, "I don't know, but that wasn't my wife. And now she's in India about to go on trial for her life." 

"Scott," Rogue said quietly, a sad look on her face. "I was on the ship when we got her out of the ocean....it was definitely Jean in that womb-thing." She sighed heavily before continuing. "She came out of it, the suppressor went on, and she was askin' for help..."

And here came the tears. Through all of this, Rogue had done her best to stay strong, to not break down, but reliving that moment -- it was too much to bear. "She was askin' for help, and we couldn't help her. I gave her my sweater...."

"I don't know if she's in control of her powers." The tone was flat, dead. Jim's body may have been at the table, but his eyes had an unfocused, far-away look that indicated he was not fully present in the conversation: the only visible sign of the psychic wound he'd received from the Imperial Guard. Nonetheless, he spoke with detached professionalism. "She lashed out when I touched her mind. I didn't have a chance to read much, but what I could sense was chaotic. She may be in pain because her powers are flaring, or else pain is what's behind the flare. She has a history of that. The fires and night terrors after Alkali Lake. The destruction of Muir could have affected her similarly." For an instant there was the faintest suggestion of a tremble in his voice, but it was gone as quickly as it had come. The telepath turned his dull eyes to Scott. "I've worked with Jean for a long time. I felt the increase in her power levels myself. We barely managed to fit her with the suppressor, and the only reason we could is that we were facing a reflex, not an intentional attack. I don't think she even knew we were there."

"We cannot decide her guilt or innocence ourselves," Ororo said then, pushing herself to stand and pace behind the chairs pulled up to the table. After a moment she stopped, forcing herself to remain still and calm as she faced the others. "Or divine the reasons why she may have done those things - if she did," she clarified, catching Scott's eye. Like him, she found it nearly impossible to believe that it _was_ Jean who had caused such destruction and death. "But it seems at the very least we must entertain the idea that it _is_ her being held prisoner, and decide what to do from there. I think we all must be able to see there is little chance that she will not be held culpable for these crimes by the Guard. Are we content to let that happen?" 

"If she did this", Angelo said quietly, "she's not in her right mind. And if she didn't, we can't let her be held responsible. Which means finding out who did."

"If we don't think she did it then we have to go in and get her," Scott summarized, "We can find out who did it and let the guard deal with them later, but we don't leave one of ours behind if we think they're innocent." It didn't matter if Jean was his wife, ok it mattered a lot, but Scott would have felt the same way about anyone.

"Whatever you think of her guilt, or even her identity," said Emma quietly, "there are barely any of us left. And the Guard were willing to kill to retrieve her. What will we gain from rallying our threadbare forces to retrieve her? Will it help us fix the holes in reality? Stabilise the universes? Or will it just cost us more Namors?"

"De problem is dat de one clue dat we have to what is happening is Grey." Remy said, grimly. "Whether she is responsible or not, being attacked by alternate universes and seeing Apocalypse trying to make good of a thousands year old prophecy is a fact. If dey execute her, it might end any chance of us fixing them." 

"You both have good points," Wanda said, her voice betraying her exhaustion. "Jean, or whatever is left of the woman we knew, appears to be the key to fixing our world and stopping Apocalypse. The firebird was the only thing in any of the writings or sources that indicated there was a way of stopping any of this. But..." She rubbed her hands over her face. "More of us will die trying to retrieve her, of that I have no doubt. But what other choice is left to us at this point?" 

All this back and forth was ridiculous. Her tears now dried, she was left with her second favourite emotion: anger. Standing up, Rogue smacked a hand on the table, loudly. "We ain't got a choice." Rogue said bluntly. "We gotta do what's right for the world, and what's right for us. And that means we go after Jean." She gave everyone a pointed look. "And it is Jean. I talked to her after Muir. I saw the look in her eyes when she realized what she'd done. I saw her on that ship. Even if it's just 10% Jean in there, I ain't giving up on her, and if none of y'all wanna come, that's fine too. I can do it myself."

Scott shook his head as he struggled upright and nodded at Rogue, "You're not going in alone. I don't think that the Jean we know did this, maybe it was a doppleganger, or something else but I'm not going to stand by and let the guard just take her and put her on trial. I'm with you, if there is even a chance that it's the real Jean in there we need to get her back."

"I'm with Rogue too", Angelo said, quiet but unswerving. "If we can't keep the world together without Jean, we have to get her out of there."

Doug frowned, shifting uncomfortably in his seat from residual pain. "The Imperial Guard came in force for her. That means they'll be keeping her someplace they feel is safe to do so." His eyes lost focus slightly, his brain clearly searching down pathways of patterns. "I'm going to guess that there are only a few places they'd feel that way about. Let me see what I can dig up."

"Good. Dis isn't de time for a Spartacus moment. Emma and Wanda are right. Going after Jean, as beat up as we are, is going to take everyone healthy we have. And some of dose we can be sure won't come back. Dat's a hell of a price for 'ifs'." Remy's red on black eyes swept the room, meeting the stares of each of them. "We either decide to do it together or we going to fail. Wit' dat understood, are dere any objections?"

"Well then," Ororo said, when no protest came, glancing at her husband with steel in her eyes. "Let's go get her."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> X-Project is an X-Men Movieverse/MCU RPG on Dreamwidth. It started in 2003, set right after the second X-Men movie, and from there took on a life of its own. Thirteen years later it’s become a universe all its own, and includes characters from all walks of Marvel life – no character is too small or too obscure for X-Project. We roleplay mainly through writing logs on email, as well as posts on Dreamwidth.
> 
> If you're interested, check out the below links!
> 
>   
> [Welcome to X-Project](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Welcome_To_X-Project) | [Application](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Application) | [Available Characters](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Category:Unplayed_Characters) | [Game Wiki](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Main_Page) | [Read The Game](http://xp-friends.dreamwidth.org/read) | [FAQ](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=FAQ) | [Contact Us](mailto:x_moderators@googlegroups.com) | [Follow Us on Twitter!](http://twitter.com/#!/xprojectrpg) | [Rules](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Category:Policy) | [Tumblr](http://www.tumblr.com/blog/xprojectrpg) | [Application Checklist](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Application_Checklist)  
> 


	6. Log 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Strike team one under Remy goes after the main holding area to retrieve Jean.
> 
>  
> 
> _India Strike Team 1: Remy LeBeau, Clarice Ferguson Cammie Black, Arthur Centino, Adrienne Frost_

The teleport in left no more than a whisper from the air being distorted, and Remy stepped out with his ramshackle assault team. He's worked with Blink before, and Cammie was part of his team. But Arthur and Adrienne were new to him in terms of deploying into the field. He didn't necessarily know what to expect, which made an already dangerous and difficult mission even more so. They had found enough intel to pinpoint the area that Jean was likely being held and Ororo's team should provide more than enough distraction for Marie-Ange's to shut down the security alerts. That still left them with a heavily guarded prison complex to crack.

"Scorpion, Blink, watch de corridors." Remy said, positioning them out to watch for distractions as he approached the panel beside the door they were in front of him. The emergency exit from the prison was heavily rigged with locking systems, but it had the advantage of being largely unguarded. All they had to do was break through some of the best security tech in the business. "Cover Girl... really? Cover Girl? Fine, dis is a thirteen pin security keypad. Think you can get us a correct code?"

Adrienne struck a model's pose and finished it up by flipping Remy off. With an innocent smile she set her middle finger against the keypad to get the code. "Before I open it," she inquired a moment later, starting to type, "is there going to be an army on the other side of this door? Because, y'know, I wanna make sure you guys are ready to party or some other action movie line before I crack this thing."

"I think Cover Girl is a delightful name," was an answer to a question no one had asked. Arthur, however, provided an earnest smile with the statement as he peeked over Remy's shoulder inquisitively.

"Non, no army. Dis is de only way in dat doesn't involve killing hundreds of Indian special forces." The door hissed open, and an innocuous corridor extended out in front of them. Remy walked to the edge of the door and squatted on his heels, looking down the hallway. Finally, he nodded and stood up.

"Like Remy thought. Multiple security systems, a dual override, and EM pulsers dat would interrupt teleportation. Which is where you come in, _homme_.” 

Arthur gave the Cajun even wider smile, happy to be on use. "Where do you need me?"

Remy clasped Arthur on the shoulder. "It would take an extremely lucky man to make it to de end wit'out tripping de alarms. Heard dat you de one to talk to 'bout luck. You think you can get to de end?"

This got a scoff. "I have no idea, but I did do my share of spy films."

Arthur squinted down the hallway and rolled his shoulders, "What kind of bet would you put on laser motion sensors? They're always in this type of scene." His body language was confident, and he hopped a couple times experimentally. There was no movement from the bandoleer of throwing knives strapped across the blond's chest, and this seemed to please him.

"I always figured laser motion sensors were a movie thing," Adrienne mused, touching one of the walls to try and glean some more info for Remy off of it. "So I'll bet you five hundred bucks."

"You heard de lady, _homme_." Remy said, stepping back to let Arthur go.

The ex-star took a deep breath, letting his whole body relax. There was a dramatic pause before he tensed, readying himself, and readied his first step.

Nothing. No alarms.

Another step. Nope.

Arthur turned back to shrug at the audience as he kept a normal, unconcerned pace down the hallway without any excessive theatrics or gymnastics. It was not, however, a straight shot. A pivot here to look back. A tiny scuff of the feet there in a slick spot. A tense pause to react to some imagined sound from an adjoining hallway. All tiny microgestures that resulted in deftly avoiding traps that only luck knew were there. It wasn't long before he was at the end, and how Arthur intended to cap his performance with a flourish and bow was instead replaced with impressed slackjawedness as the blond found he had a shadow.

Remy's eyes and senses had tracked him carefully, imprinting those moves in his mind. As Arthur finished, Remy launched into motion, exactly mimicking the other man's movements until in moments he was standing next to him.

"Good job. Hit you switch on three." They flipped the overrides simultaneously, shutting down the security systems in the tunnel.

"Oh gee," Clarice headed down the hallway, "That was...." too easy wasn't quite right, especially given Longshot's powers, but....still. "I was looking forward to some sort of weird contortionism and involved contraption to get through the sensors, but nope. We got a four leaf clover and Mr. Mimic instead," not that she was complaining.

"Dis is you issue? Next time, Remy let you teleport in de teeth of de enemy." Remy said, prepping the door. "Once dis is open, Remy and Longshot make a distraction. Scorpion, you need to locate Phoenix as soon as possible. Cover Girl, you and Blink get her out, ASAP."

Adrienne nearly forgot she was talking to Remy and not Scott and almost complained about wanting to hang out some more with Arthur- she really liked that guy- but caught herself at the last moment and snapped her mouth shut. She didn't think he'd appreciate another of her special one-fingered salutes, either, so she just nodded and slapped her hand against an adjoining wall at the end of the corridor they'd come down. "They brought her down this way," she told Clarice and Cammie with a nod of her head, leading the way and Reading the walls every few feet as she tracked the route the guards had taken Jean.

"Well then, what are we fucking waiting for?" Cammie said, pulling the binding off of her left arm, "I have an itchy stinger."

As the three ladies left, Arthur and Remy were alone by the door. An echo of a passing patrol sounded faintly from the complex’s interior, but the television star seemed more concerned with running a hand through his hair anxiously.

It took a few heartbeats for him to find words for what he wanted to say. His words were quick since Adrienne and all were getting steadily further away. “Listen, Remy, I think it would be best if I went alone. I mean, bullets" — then the door Remy had prepped opened early, giving the passing guards full view of the South African television star’s brainstorming session. Remy’s position was still concealed behind the doorframe.

There was a beat and Arthur struck his most sincere smile. “Hey mates. I was looking for the restroom. Got any ideas?” He winked, and his left eye pulsed a starburst of yellow light. “Oh, hey, look at the time…”

Arthur took off down the newly exposed hallway at a sprint, drawing both guards in the opposite direction from what Adrienne’s reading indicated. A shot sounded over the guard’s confusion exclamations, and then a loud hiss accompanied the sudden release of compressed coolant. A white fog quickly covered the adjoining hallway.

A familiar voice came trailing back in retort, but faded from earshot quickly. “Good try, but what did that extinguisher do to you?”

"Guess dat's a distraction." Remy said as he entered the fog. Normally, he'd be lethal, but he wasn't looking to create a massive body count. Instead, he plunked off guards one by one, rendering them unconscious as he slipped in and out of the fog like a wraith, striking quickly and disappearing as fast.

Adrienne stopped suddenly in the maze of corridors, only twice having to duck out of sight of passing guards, and did a 'tada!' gesture for Clarice and Cammie in front of a nondescript-looking door. "I present to you... the cell of Doctor Lush."

"....all that security and this is it?" Clarice asked dubiously, looking at the door. It was solid metal with a lock, but nothing that looked too serious. Then again, they probably hadn't expected anyone to get this far without passcodes and security clearances. Reaching into a pocket, she pulled out a little lockpick kit. She'd learned to crack safes years earlier from Remy and lock picking was an easy offshoot. "Alrighty then, here we go..." 

"Let's do this," Cammie said, ready for a fight and striking a fighting stance, her green eyes hard and her left hand up and balled into a fist. The fact that there weren't any guards in the cell threw her and she put her fists down, "The fuck...?"

The cell reminded Jean of the Box, except without the comforts. It was merely a concrete slab, sink, and toilet. The imperial guard, once they had captured her, had made some...modifications that were not kind. As a result, Jean could not do much but lay on the slab. She heard the fighting in the corridor, the voices of the cavalry. But her mind was elsewhere. She remembered the dreams. It felt like more than just a what could have been. And she also felt something from within, stirring. Somehow she knew that the collar was only like putting a band-aid on a dam to stop it from leaking. 

When the door opened, Jean tried to move, but her body felt disconnected from her mind. It refused to do much other than lay there. 

"No....they'll kill you," she said.

Adrienne gave Clarice and Cammie her best 'is she kidding right now?' side-eye look before she smirked at Jean. "We got this far but _now_ someone's going to kill us? So... they weren't trying before? Good to know!" she joked, touching the wall to check its history for bobby traps or...something- she had no idea what, really- that might kill them. "C'mon, Lushy," she cooed good-naturedly as she crossed the cell to the concrete slab and took one of Jean's hands to help pull her up. "Maybe you can rent some vacation property here and come back later, but for now you're booked on a flight home. I got you a ticket to the Rockettes Spring Show. Can't miss that." 

Only when she'd pulled Jean up did Adrienne notice the kinky-looking dog collar she had on. She touched it and frowned at her friend. "Ruh roh. I really should pay more attention to what Frost Enterprises does," she muttered to no one in particular. "I can see people talking about a 'feedback system' and a 'suppressor', but I have no idea what those things mean. I think having a professional deal with disabling that stuff would be better for all involved. Don't want to explode you." She flipped open a tiny compartment to reveal the wiring inside the collar. "I _can_ disable the receiver on the remote detonation, though. So, y'know. You don't get exploded."

"Okay, let's get the fuck out of here now. While we still fucking can," Cammie pointed out, "We might not get another chance."

"So long as I can get her out," Clarice agreed, leaving quickly was a good idea. "I can't promise I'll be able to get back in though with the shields," maybe? Hopefully. She didn't want to abandon those inside without a quick way out.

As if she were making a shoe, Adrienne hummed as she worked on disabling the remote detonation function of Jean's kinky dog collar, tongue poking out from between her lips. "No offense," she muttered to Cammie and Clarice, "but I'm totally fine with _not_ coming back in here. Ah hah! Done! No exploding Doctor Lush remotely," she explained proudly.

"Thanks," Jean said. There were so many of them here to save her. But Sam, and Sharon, and Yvette, and Matt would never be. Or Nathan. Or Moira. God, did Rachel know? They were dead, they were all dead. It would never be the same. Why could they never be happy? Why did it always end in pain? 

Her eyes seemed to flicker orange for a split second, almost hardly noticeable, but the collar did. A light turned red as a jolt of electricity ran through her that made her body start to tremor. Slamming back down on the slab, she gritted her teeth, choking back a cry of pain. She clenched her fists tightly until it passed. 

"Feedback...system," Jean explained between breaths. 

"And that's my cue to get the fuck out of here," Clarice stated, taking Jean's arm. "Let's make like a fetus and head out," joke. Laugh so you don't cry. Do your job. 

"Shit. Yeah," Adrienne commented, shaking out the hand she'd been holding Jean's arm with, having gotten a small jolt from the electrical collar, "let's find someone to get this thing off before her brain gets fried."

Opening a portal, Clarice disappeared along with her two guests. Time to move this lame-ass party elsewhere.

 

***

 

Remy looked at his communicator blinking, indicating that Jean had been teleported out of the prison. Good, now it was time to get everyone else out. He and Arthur had caused chaos through the prison, sending guards running in every direction and depleting their numbers by knocking them out. He paused as Arthur trotted next to him.

"Time to get back to de others. Storm will have her hands full right now."

"Right," Arthur affirmed in a chipper whisper as he finished reloading recovered throwing knives back around his chest. His eyes was still glowing, but as they traced a route that seemed to be solely in Remy's head, there seemed to be little concern for that. There had been no guard patrols that had come close due to sudden route changes or improvised traps Remy had left to mislead as they made their way to the rendezvous. It took a lot of luck for these things to work. An idle thought, like an itch, made Arthur want to openly wonder how much luck the two of them had to spare.

However, the two of them were practically alone. It was almost leisurely. So, instead, Arthur filled the silence with another bother, "Why not just have Miss Scorpion go back with Blinker?" 

He was new to codenames. 

"Because we going to need her when we hit de rest of de Guard." Remy caught the man's expression. "She's been very well trained. She'll make it to where we're going."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> X-Project is an X-Men Movieverse/MCU RPG on Dreamwidth. It started in 2003, set right after the second X-Men movie, and from there took on a life of its own. Thirteen years later it’s become a universe all its own, and includes characters from all walks of Marvel life – no character is too small or too obscure for X-Project. We roleplay mainly through writing logs on email, as well as posts on Dreamwidth.
> 
> If you're interested, check out the below links!
> 
>   
> [Welcome to X-Project](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Welcome_To_X-Project) | [Application](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Application) | [Available Characters](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Category:Unplayed_Characters) | [Game Wiki](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Main_Page) | [Read The Game](http://xp-friends.dreamwidth.org/read) | [FAQ](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=FAQ) | [Contact Us](mailto:x_moderators@googlegroups.com) | [Follow Us on Twitter!](http://twitter.com/#!/xprojectrpg) | [Rules](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Category:Policy) | [Tumblr](http://www.tumblr.com/blog/xprojectrpg) | [Application Checklist](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Application_Checklist)  
> 


	7. Log 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Strike team two under Ororo hits the Guard, wrapping them up so they can't deploy properly.
> 
>  
> 
> _India Strike Team 2: Ororo Munroe, Jessica Jones, Callisto, Wade Wilson, Rogue_

The course of the rescue was never going to run easily, but even so, this was chaos. They faced not only the Imperial Guard but Special Forces soldiers as well; a hail of bullets cut off routes of retreat and regrouping and forced them to face combat on all sides. They were holding their own so far - but how long would that last? 

One, two, three - one, two, three. It was like a waltz, only with bullets. It wasn't as bad as it could have been weapon-wise. There was a fair bit of cover and Wade had plenty of ammo for the moment. He was waiting for the reinforcements to arrive, though. This was a shit-show, no question, but it was going to get worse. It always did. There was a momentary pause between the rapid fire exchanges and Wade slid from cover, moving from a pillar to a brick wall, ducking behind it just in time to avoid the renewed shooting from the ISF. And then the waltz started up again. 

If there was anything she hated more, it was the sense of being trapped. No sense in flying when you're surrounded, but being on the ground made her nervous. It didn't help that Jessica was there, and at the back of Rogue's mind, she felt responsible for the younger woman. Rogue kept having to remind herself that the girl was super strong, and mostly invulnerable. Still. Rogue ensured she stayed in front of her, whether Jess noticed or not. 

At each attempted movement, there was a return fire. It was obvious that this wasn't their usual battle. "They're shooting to kill," she said, in awe. "They seriously want to kills us." 

Jessica was sweating bullets. She was surrounded by bullets and she was sweating them. The chaos around her was almost too much. Her face remained perfectly neutral even though her inner voice shouted for her to get the fuck out of there. 'Alright Jess, now is not the time to panic. Rogue's been training you and she has your back. You have to have hers.' She thought to herself. 'I'm not going to let her die. Not like all the others.' She continued, feeling a pit grow in her stomach as she thought about those that had fallen. It was time for a little of that typical Jessica Jones patented bravado.

"Fuck them and their guns. You haven't exactly trained me for all out warfare, but it'll have to be enough. You watch my back, I watch yours, and we both keep an eye on the others. I'll be damned if we fall to these fuckers." Jessica stated angrily. Her bones practically itched beneath her skin. She was on edge, ready to hit something, anything. It was as though all the frustration of the past few days was reaching a fever pitch. She was ready to raise hell. 

Callisto's eyes were narrowed as she watched the bullets fly. Callisto could dodge a bullet. She couldn't dodge _this_ many. At length she caught Ororo's attention. 

"Can you clear a path to them?" she asked. "A few seconds would do it." 

The silver-haired woman gave a curt nod, and with a raise of her arms sent anything along the corridor that wasn't bolted down flying against the wall with a gust of wind - and that included a few soldiers and their rifles. 

As soon as the hail abated, Callisto's lithe form was vaulting along the corridor, reaching the shooters almost before they could figure out what was going on. 

Logan wasn't inclined to be nice. Not this time around, not with Namor's death on their hands, Jean being held hostage, and all the shit with the Brotherhood. They already had too many killed and injured. And what else was a healing factor for if he couldn't do this? 

Logan didn't bother with cover. He ran right at the ISF soldiers and anyone else that was in his way, attracting their gunfire and their attention. He kept his claws in for the most part. Adamantium weighted punches doing the majority of the work for him and knocking soldiers out left and right. The claws he saved for permanently disabling weapons and if some soldier caught a backhand with claws extended he tried to keep it to only a crippling strike and not a lethal one. He didn't always succeed but he wasn't going to lose sleep over it. They were out of the fight. That's all that really mattered. 

As the Indian unit fell back, a number of new figures joined the fight. Clad in green, white and saffron uniforms, they moved with military precision to meet the mutants attack. An angry tremor shook the area in front of them, checking their advance, and long blasts of electricity ground themselves at random around them. 

"Daitya, Ifrit, take point. Khaincha and Shrvet-Kharosh, keep them off-balance!" 

Jessica barely took note of the people in the strange uniforms among the heat of the battle and she couldn't make out what their leader was saying over the hail of bullets around her. She slugged one of the Indian special forces, careful not to turn him into paste, while at the same time letting loose a stream of profanities as a wave of bullets struck her from different angles. She flew upwards on instinct, curling in on herself to make a smaller target. She wished she could dance around the battlefield like Wolverine and Callisto. She'd noticed the pair weaving in and out of the battle, Callisto like a cobra striking at a its prey and Logan like a whirlwind of bladed death. She grabbed one of the men by the throat as she flew by and, after drawing close to his fellows, she hurled him into them. She only hoped they could keep this up. 

The main thing for the moment, aside from covering everyone else in an effort to make sure no one suffered fatal injuries, was for Wade to try his hardest to incapacitate the ISF dudes. He wasn't _necessarily_ shooting to kill, but then they'd offed Aquafina without much thought and oops - was that a throat shot? Poor little ISF man. Wade slid around another pillar, reloaded while he counted off the various shots coming his way, and then ducked out into the open again. Raising his guns, he took aim at a pair of men, the green an saffron of their uniforms garish, and - 

Didn't manage to pull the trigger before he got hammered by a concussive blast. It knocked him off his feet, but he tucked and rolled, managing to mitigate the force of impact when he hit the floor behind him. He took the brunt of that on his shoulder and kept rolling, landing himself behind a toppled wall just before another concussive blast rocked the structure. Bricks and pieces of mortar rained down on him. "Christ," he muttered, wiping sweat and dirt off his face. He needed to figure out where _that_ had come from. Preferably before whoever was aiming at him buried him in rubble. 

Keeping one eye on Jess, she was proud of the girl and how Jess was handling the situation. 

Calm, cool, collected: the three C's of success. 

It allowed Rogue the opportunity to relax (as much as possible in the midst of battle) and get to the task at hand, namely rescuing Jean and getting rid of the baddies. Easy, peasy. Rogue wasn't picky -- if someone came near her fists, they were guaranteed a good knock to the ol' block. She did her best to hold back; she didn't want to be responsible for anyone's death, even though she had to admit, it didn't look like anyone was too concerned about her own survival. 

Case in point, a large, grey looking man was lumbering her way, looking keen on taking out Jessica. That wasn't going to happen. "Hey ugly," she called out, forcibly moving bodies out of her way. "Where do you think you're goin'?" Preparing for a large punch, she threw it and looked in horror as the man laughed. What she thought was merely a grey skin color was actually some sort of sand, covering his skin. Where she had punched, the sand had merely sunk in, absorbing the majority of her force. And she'd really tried this time. 

In an almost desperate pummel, she tried various parts of his body, ducking his own blows and sparring as best as she could. There wasn't a single inch that was vulnerable. Correction -- there wasn't anywhere vulnerable on him. She was plenty vulnerable, as she discovered when he knocked her clear into the next wall. 

Owwwwwwww..... 

Jessica slugged yet another member of the Indian Special Forces in the face. His nose broke under her fist, but she was hardly concerned. She whirled around, her ponytail following her movement, and her eyes quickly took in Rogue several yards away. Her skunk striped mentor was apparently fighting something akin to jello or a pillow. A large, grey, ugly pillow. There didn't seem to be much that Rogue could do against an opponent like that and, if Jess was being honest with herself, there probably wasn't much that she could do either. Still, that didn't mean she was going to stand back and watch Rogue get hurt. Not a fucking chance in hell. She ignored the peppering of bullets into her side as she launched herself through the air toward Rogue's opponent. She made it about half way before a man in one of the odd, garish uniforms sort of...bounced their way into her path. Jessica poured on the speed, willing her body to move faster. Her clothes groaned under the pressure of the wind, but Jessica didn't give two shits. She was going to pick this mother fucker up and drop him...hard. 

Jessica's trajectory was changed suddenly as a heavy weight ricocheted off of her side. She twisted to try and identify it, but a second impact slammed into her back. She finally caught sight of a man hurtling away from her before hitting the wall and coming back at her even faster. 

It had seemed almost manageable, for a moment... and then all hell had truly broken loose. A half-dozen - no, _seven_ Imperial Guard members, neatly outnumbering them and quickly exhausting what little fresh energy they had left. Ororo raised herself above the battlefield for a moment, assessing her people, looking for weaknesses-- 

"Logan! Behind you!" 

He whirled around to see a guy in a weird ass suit staring right at him with his arms raised. He charged, hoping to get to him before whatever shit he had planned could be set off. Who the hell was this guy? The suit reminded him of Magneto and bullets weren't coming anywhere near him. Electron's arms dropped and energy slammed into Logan before he could form another thought. It sent him howling to the floor. 

Every muscle was spasming, his bones were on fire, and any thought of coordinated movement was out. Logan felt like he was being cooked from the inside out. He couldn't tell if the stench of burning flesh was just in his mind or not. This was getting old. What was the universe trying to say by throwing two different electricity mutants at him within such a short time frame? 

Khaincha doubled up on his blast, electricity running across the metal panels of his suit and coalescing through his hands into arcing it into Logan. 

As she watched her teammate twisting on the floor, Storm channelled her anger, drawing charge from the air around her and revelling in the crackle that ran over her skin. This was going to be satisfying. 

Wade had just ducked another concussive blast that'd taken a pretty massive chunk out of the wall behind him and brought down part of the ceiling. Rolling free of the debris, he took aim at an ISF soldier and pulled the trigger only to find himself blasted across the floor, his shot all kinds of interrupted. "Goddammit," he grunted, picking himself up off the ground. Somebody was up high. They had a good view of the fight and they were making sure he couldn't minimize the ISF's movements. It was _really fucking irritating_. 

From his momentary hiding place, Wade took a breath and prepared to move - only to stall when every single hair on his body stood on end. He glanced upward just as the charge abruptly disappeared and caught sight of Storm. Unable to help himself, he grinned. "This is gonna be good," he muttered, then turned his attention back to finding the asshole who kept pummeling him with concussive blasts. 

For a second, Khaincha seemed to glow as the energy that he was channeling doubled in intensity and then doubled again. The panels of his uniform started to glow white hot and with a sound akin to a clap of thunder, he disappeared in a flash of light, his body flung back at high speed to crash into the ground and slide along for several feet, leaving him smoking and insensible. 

Getting back to her feet was the easy part -- what was hard was staying on them. Every time Rogue punched Quake or threw something at him, his sand either absorbed it or her hand got caught. Neither were very beneficial for her cause. 

Out of desperation, she slipped off her gloves. Blocking his attacks with her arms, and trying to duck around the sand, she finally managed to get a hand on him. And instantly felt nothing. The same sand and silica matter which were causing her problems with her blows were prohibiting her from absorbing his powers. 

"Aw, fuck me," she said, narrowly flying away from a full frontal sand attack. "In another life, I bet we could've been friends." 

Callisto had been shoulder height with her opponent when she'd first approached, but the figure she was now squaring off against was as tall as the room would allow, towering over her. A massive fist swung for her - she could feel the rush of air that accompanied it and knew she didn't much want to feel that punch first-hand. 

Ducking and diving it was, then. Fast and low, Callisto pulled out her long-knives, and got to work, circling around - a slice here, a cut there as Titan took repeated swings at her. The guy was tough, her cuts barely making an impact, but they'd add up, and sooner or later he'd give her the opening she needed to get somewhere vital. 

Logan gave a two fingered salute to Storm in thanks as he dragged himself up into a sitting position. His body was still giving small uncontrollable jerks. He shook his head and tossed a baleful glare at Electron's limp body. Fucker deserved every single moment of Storm's attack. He spat to clear the metallic taste of blood from his mouth. 

He staggered to his feet and turned to rejoin the fray when a noise so loud and so piercing dropped him to the floor again. He clutched at his ears and writhed. He felt the blood on his hands and pretty much knew his eardrums had burst. 

A few yards away, Callisto was caught by the edge of the cone of sound that had hit Logan. Her hearing wasn't as sensitive as his, nor was the blast targeted in her direction, but the noise was enough to disorient her nevertheless, and in the moment of distraction Titan caught her with a long, swinging backhand, the momentum of which was enough to send her flying. 

Logan's healing factor was becoming a problem because the noise was constant. He felt it vibrating in his bones without let up. His ears would heal then burst again and repeat. Blood covered the sides of his face and trailed down his neck as he pulled himself into a crouch just to be slammed into the wall behind him by a red skinned blur. 

Jessica grunted as the man collided with her face. Her head snapped back painfully and she was thrown off course and hurtled into the ground. Her face planted in the dirt, but she was unharmed as she got to her feet. Mud streaked her face and the strands of hair closest to her face, and a raging inferno was ignited behind her eyes. She flew upwards, her hands clenching into fists as she stared at the man. 

"You seriously picked the wrong fucking woman to piss off. I hope you understand English, because I'm saying 'fuck you,' and 'fuck all the way off.'" Jessica growled. Something in her snapped and she let out a battle cry, loud and shrill, as she rocketed toward the man at an incredible speed. 

"Hey everybody," Wade muttered to himself, peeking around the edge of the downed wall he'd taken refuge behind. "This is our handbasket - first stop Limbo, twelve minutes and counting. Last stop hell, no tickets needed, no refunds available." Logan looked like a nightmare version of Carrie with sideburns, Jessica and Rogue seemed to be alright-ish, Storm was up above and Callisto was still wrecking havoc amongst the few ISF guys still standing. That left the rest of the Guard and Wade _finally_ caught sight of the guy tossing concussive blasts around like they were going out of style. 

He had to duck and scramble before he could do more than note the man's position, though, as another blast of concussive energy slammed into the crumbling wall in front of him. Not good. This was definitely not good. He poked his head up again, feeling like a goddamn _meerkat_ for all the good the short bursts of sight were doing him. "Fuck it," Wade muttered, pushing himself up and vaulting over the wall to attempt a shot at the red guy slamming into Logan. Didn't work - another concussive blast caught him mid air and sent him head over heels. 

Rogue had tried everything and yet she still hadn't successfully landed a single punch. It was infuriating, frustrating and painful since her enemy couldn't say the same. "Storm!," she called out, hoping the other woman could hear her. "I could use a little help here!" 

A localised tornado wasn't the easiest thing to conjure but Ororo worked to do so nonetheless, gathering a tight funnel of wind and directing it down to engulf Rogue's foe as he charged her once again. He gave a shout as the winds began to tear at his armour, the hungry torrents ripping it from him faster than he could form it back again. 

Rogue only had a few seconds before she lost her minimal advantage. Seizing the moment, she stripped her hand of her glove and placed it against his arm. 

He was much stronger than she thought, and soon had forcibly pushed her away. Ten seconds was all she'd needed though, as she now tried to acquaint herself to the new powers. Able to have a slight command of his sand pushed this fight from hopelessly doomed to one on an even level. That hope gave Rogue the means to keep on going. Coating her fist with his own silica matter allowed her to punch with an added strength. 

Jessica cursed, her vision even more crimson as she hit the ground once more. Her body ached, invulnerability or not. Her head swam and she looked up to see the member of the Imperial Guard grinning at her. She cursed and coughed, looking around with bleary eyes. Fuck, she needed help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> X-Project is an X-Men Movieverse/MCU RPG on Dreamwidth. It started in 2003, set right after the second X-Men movie, and from there took on a life of its own. Thirteen years later it’s become a universe all its own, and includes characters from all walks of Marvel life – no character is too small or too obscure for X-Project. We roleplay mainly through writing logs on email, as well as posts on Dreamwidth.
> 
> If you're interested, check out the below links!
> 
>   
> [Welcome to X-Project](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Welcome_To_X-Project) | [Application](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Application) | [Available Characters](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Category:Unplayed_Characters) | [Game Wiki](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Main_Page) | [Read The Game](http://xp-friends.dreamwidth.org/read) | [FAQ](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=FAQ) | [Contact Us](mailto:x_moderators@googlegroups.com) | [Follow Us on Twitter!](http://twitter.com/#!/xprojectrpg) | [Rules](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Category:Policy) | [Tumblr](http://www.tumblr.com/blog/xprojectrpg) | [Application Checklist](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Application_Checklist)  
> 


	8. Log 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Strike team three under Wanda moves to take out communications and cause chaos.
> 
>  
> 
> _India Strike Team 3: Wanda Maximoff, Amanda Sefton, Billy Kaplan, Megan Gwynn, Julian Keller_

"All right, everyone, we're here." Amanda grinned briefly, but the expression was strained. The lack of a decent-sized city within her power range was telling on the witch. The group was gathered by the main vents for the bunker, crouched behind a series of low bushes after Clarice had teleported them in. "Front and centre, Candy Floss. Time to do your thing with Billy here."

Pixie nodded and came forward. She'd been quiet through the entire rescue mission so far and her all-black eyes looked especially drawn and solemn now. One wing was bandaged. It almost looked pretty again as it began to shine with beads of dust, along with the exposed areas of her skin. She whispered toward the vent her wishes to any guards or soldiers in their path, her voice further muffled through the gas mask, "Have a nice trip..." She looked to Billy as her dust slowly began to release in an effusive cloud.

Billy had been worrying the wording over in his mind the entire way, Amanda's many lessons on the seriousness of magic finally sinking in. This was important. He knew it, and he couldn't afford for the spell to go wrong. He shut his eyes, taking a deep breath, before looking up at the air grate. "I want to blow the pixie dust through the ventilation," he began to chant, trying to imagine the particles floating their way through the system. He repeated the chant again, trying to create the sensation of wind on his back. He continued, keeping his voice completely level. No errors, no summing of cyclones, just a gentle breeze, that's all he need--was that? He broke into a wide grin as a draft went last, carrying the dust on its way. 

Wanda clapped Billy on the shoulder and squeezed briefly. "We'll give it a few minutes," she said quietly. "We cannot risk us either getting caught in the dust or coming across someone who hasn't been impacted yet." She wanted to mitigate as many chances of running into issues as possible - she'd fought against members of the Imperial Guard and come out the victor by only the narrowest of margins. Wanda was trying to balance the need for speed and the desire to shield as many as she could from danger. She knew that the balance would soon be out of her hands.

"Not the worst idea," Julian said in a low tone- remembering not to whisper. He was standing with his back turned on the group, keeping a look out as best as he could with one eye nearly swollen shut. "I'd like to keep my other eye, if it's all the same to you, boss," he attempted to wink at Amanda...it didn't work. 

"Don't worry, Jules, we'll make sure you keep the playboy good looks," was Amanda's response in kind. She glanced down at the watch Wanda had given her for her birthday several years ago, tracking the time. Last time she'd tangled with the Guard, she'd been high on the power of a New Delhi revolting against its government. This time she was the invader, and there would be no power for her here. Still, all good magicians have a trick or two up their sleeves.

Minutes passed in tense waiting. Then, Amanda nodded and shrugged off her backpack. "Time to go," she said, unzipping it and handing out lightweight gasmasks to each member of the team except Pixie. "How do you want to play this, Boss Lady? Normally I'd go first, but I can't 'port here. Probably not that good for a shielding spell, either."

The older woman's gaze swept seriously over the group in front of her, working through possibilities and configuration. She disregarded a few ideas before pointing. "Julian, you will be take point; use your powers to shield the others when we go in. Billy and I will be close behind. Amanda, Pixie, you will bring up the rear. Take a few minutes to get into position and then - we need to hit them hard and hit them fast. If you run into trouble or see trouble, signal the group as best as you can. Everyone understand?" She gave them a tight grin. "Basically, try to stay alive, my dears."

Pixie stretched her wings gently as she dropped in place next to her teacher. Julian's shield cast a green tint over the group. Try to stay alive, she would. Their mission was inexorable, she believed, but their individual fates weren't. If someone - else - was killed, there was still no turning back. And she didn't want anyone else losing their life to protect her.

"I hope we dusted everyone up ahead. Any guards who get close are getting an extra dose." She summoned her were-light too, for good measure. Her magic wasn't powerful like Amanda's or versatile like Billy's, but she felt like it compensated for her damaged wing right now. Maybe.

They reached the entry point, moving slowly and with a bubble like shield before the initial group. "We're in position," Julian muttered, trying not to let his nerves show. He tested the door, "I'll need a second." Closing his eyes, Julian gave the lock a slight push, which was followed soon after with a slight ping as metal rapidly expanded, breaking the security measure. Now the door swung open into a dimly lit hallway. "Heading inside," he again stepped forward, extending the bubble of the team's shield forward with him as he waited for bullets to start flying. 

Pixie's dust seemed to have done the trick, at least closer to the vent. As the small group headed towards their goal of the communications block, they came across soldiers giggling at patterns in the air, or spinning around gleefully or even just sitting on the floor transfixed by whatever visions the dust had given them. A relief, at least for Amanda - she had no issues using more... mundane tactics to subdue them, but she preferred not to actually have to kill anyone in front of her students unless forced to. 

"Should be the next left up ahead," she murmured, only loud enough for the group to hear her.

The dim light ahead of them grew deeply as the sides of the corridor grew indistinct. Obviously there were lighting issues of some kind in the bunker and they found themselves going deeper into shadow. Suddenly, without warning, flames erupted beside and behind them. The heat and smoke from the flames were withering, panicking them with a primal survival instinct. As they pushed forward away from the flames, Julian suddenly went over backwards; the meaty sound of an impact on flesh accompanying his sudden jack-knifing to the floor.

"Nobody move, or we will open fire."

Not bloody likely. Wanda snapped "Pixie!" as she yanked on the strings around them while hitting the ground.

At her name, Pixie's head jerked up from where she had dropped into a crouch. Oh gods, Julian! She didn't have time to think. Her dust raced through her pores like wildfire and puffed into the air in an instant, where it glowed red in the light. 

Billy's magic was slower than hers, and only a puff of wind was needed this time - Amanda shoved at the air in front of her and the resulting magical breeze sent the chaos-laced dust blowing straight at the unseen foes. The dust, influenced by Wanda's hex, had become sticky particles that coated everyone in its path with a hallucination-inducing glue.

"Weapons free!" The order rang out in the heads of the Indians, even as their struggled with the gluey substance. However, a psionic presence was working directly against it, countering the chaotic properties of Pixie's dust by taking direct control of their minds. Bullets started to chance the mutants and retreat was made impossible as a wall of pure darkness slammed down behind them.

He felt something wet on the back of his head as he touched the spot where it had hit the concrete floor. Bringing it in front of his face, he could see rich red blood, which was enough to snap him out of the fugue he'd entered on impact- the concussion would wait, his friends needed him. Looking down the hallway was a problem, darkness seemed to have enveloped everyone. Sounds became more clear, the sounds of gunfire- which he was familiar with. The telekinetic shield was back in place in an instant, but something was pushing against him aside from the bullets. "They have a Teek!" he shouted to no one in particular, "I'll hold as long as I can, but...uf," the shield pushed back a little ways from some direction- it was hard to tell- losing a little bit of ground, "it's a strong one." 

Pixie's were-light expanded in size and darted about erratically, illuminating the scene in flashes. Bullets were flying, glancing off the shrinking shield. On the plus side, there seemed to be the right amount of upright people. Her panic eased and the ball of floating light steadied. It was up against a wall of darkness. Something - someone - was absorbing all the light. Will O' Wisp blazed, cutting through where normal light didn't seem able to do. 

A plume of fire appeared in front of her, forcing Pixie to swerve instinctively. As she did, a metal baton crashed against her inner knee, staggering her. A woman in a Guardsman outfit had been waiting for her. She dodged the second swing, but the woman suddenly seemed to disappear, only to crash another blow against her back from a patch of darkness.

Immediately, Amanda moved between Pixie and her attacker, catching the next blow aimed at the younger woman's head on her leather-clad arm, bent at an angle so as to let the baton slide sideways rather than crush downwards. "Hide and seek, is it?" Amanda taunted, wincing slightly at the pain in her arm - the jacket had cushioned the impact, but it still had a lot of weight behind it. She clicked her fingers, her own werelight appearing. "Sic 'er, George," she commanded, and the small ball of light zoomed after the Guardswoman, buzzing dizzily around her head and destroying her night vision. "Wiccan, werelight party for three!" she called to Billy, using the codename he'd chosen while they'd been en route to India. 

This spell was easier, due to hours of practice, and Billy began to mutter the familiar chant. Despite Amanda's early protests, Billy's werelight had reverted to its original shape; at his summon, a glowing, blue monkey appeared on his shoulder. "Go for the eyes, Boo!" he said, pointing to the nearest guard, before the creature leaped away, swinging along invisible vines toward the target.

Pixie's vision was tunneled from the intense pain. "Will O'Wisp," she whimpered. The damn thing didn't seem affected in the least - it always did seem to have slightly a mind of its own - as it wove trails of light around the attackers and joined the party of lights. Pretty lights. Her body felt like it was on fire but she managed to roll up into a crouched position. More lights - the behind her own eyes kind.

Wanda had hit the ground and rolled in between two soldiers coated with the chaos imbued pixie dust; taking out two freaking out people with well placed hex bolts had been simple enough, even with in the middle of a full blown battle. But she wasn't looking to take out the soldiers, though there were plenty causing enough trouble; she knew there were Imperial Guards somewhere and they were the real threat. She ducked as someone came at her with a knife and manipulated reality enough that the man ended up stumbling and stabbing himself in the leg. Wanda kicked him out of the way, right in time to see someone out of the corner of her eye...

The telepath had successfully managed to mask herself from Wanda until the very last moment when there was no way to physically miss seeing her. A brief look of hatred and fury crossed the face of the woman known as Oracle before she dropped the telepathic screen and slammed a fist into the side of Wanda's head.

Wanda staggered backwards, head ringing, as Oracle came in for another blow. 

Amanda was focussed on the Guard in front of her, revealed now by the combined power of the three werelights. A very attractive woman, who Amanda recognised from X-Force's files as the mutant known as Nightside. "Figures," she said, rolling her eyes at herself. All the darkness and shadows, she should have known. Fortunately, the combination of Wisp, George and Boo the light-monkey were proving distracting to her and the witch went in for a physical attack, to drop her as quickly as possible before anyone else got hurt. 

It wasn't as easy as that. Amanda's hand-to-hand skills had improved over the years, but Nightside had been trained by one of the best militaries in the world. The two found themselves waging a pitched physical battle, in close enough quarters that Nightside's powers were negated, much in the same way Amanda's magic was by the location. 

Amanda had also missed one other thing - the small, elven-looking woman in a Guard uniform who briefly shimmered into view, before pulling up another illusion to cloak herself before she headed for Billy.

Billy continued to give Boo minor instructions to try to give Amanda a opening. His attention was focused on the battle, to the point where he nearly missed a jet of fire as it sizzled past. He leaped out of the way, finding himself cornered as he looked frantically around for his assailant. There--he spotted the woman, her fists wreathed in flame. "Well, two can play that game," he said, summoning electricity of his own and sending a jolt her way. 

 

Amanda grunted as a fist sank into her midsection, knocking the wind out of her. Instinctively she lashed out with a booted foot, Doc Marten connecting just under the Guard's knee. Nightside stumbled back, granting the Brit a moment of respite, but only a moment. 

"No!" Pixie shouted as her teacher was struck. She was struggling to control her magic. Everything was slipping away from her. But there was a deeper magic lurking below the surface of her being, out of reach of her mind, more slippery than her dust or other autonomic functions. If she could just stop flailing long enough and sink into it... sink into the hole that she felt in her heart... Her movements were fluid a she lunged at Nightside. There was a dagger in Pixie's hand. It glowed pink as it sliced through the air. It connected with something. "Let us go!"

The dagger sunk into Nightside's chest up to the hilt, and the woman looked down at it, dumbfounded. Then her eyes rolled up in her head and she collapsed to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut. The dagger remained in Pixie's hand and it slid out of Nightside as easily as it had gone in, but there was no cut in the woman's uniform, no blood, no wound. Nightside lay unconscious, but her breathing was regular, her colour normal. 

Amanda straightened, arm curved around her stomach, looking at the dagger in Pixie's hand. "Good save," was all she managed. Another mystery, surrounding her students. Another potential danger, and no time to look into it. All she could do was hope she'd have time later. 

The pressure on the team's protective shield dropped and as the bullets started to slow, Julian turned his attention to Wiccan, who was dodging the blasts of fire from one of their mutant foes. Securing a shield behind himself- in the direction of the bullets, he reached out and tried to put up a barrier between his student and flame- but was shocked when it passed right through the green field of hardened air without a bit of heat. He'd repelled fire before, this didn't feel right- focusing on the pyrokinetic, he reached out and tried to pin her with his TK- only to discover her not there either. "Oh for...Wiccan- it's not real!" 

There was a stirring of the air behind him, and a voice in his ear. "Hush," the woman's voice breathed, almost playful. "You'll spoil the ending." The words were followed up by a baton to the small of Julian's back, above the kidneys and the telekinetic went down again.

Billy continued to do his best to dodge the incoming firebolts, sending his own lightning in return. Miraculously, he wasn't burned yet, but neither was he able to hit the woman. She always seemed to uncannily dodge his attacks, and completely shrug off the ones he thought surely had hit.

All became clear as he heard Julian's shout. His bolt hit, and the illusion of the woman shimmered then faded. He looked about, finally spotting him just before the woman took him down. "No!" he shouted, sending a thunderclap that knocked her back, hitting the wall hard behind her. She slid to the ground, stunned, and Billy took the opportunity to rush to Julian's side.

It felt like burning fingers were digging through her mind. Wanda and Oracle had traded enough physical blows to make the room reel around drunkenly but now the other woman had simply slammed her powers into Wanda's mind and had started digging. She dropped to her knees and screamed as blood poured out of her nose. Oracle was pressing her advantage, and clearly remembered the piggy backing trick that had turned the battle last time.

She'd forgotten finesse, unwilling to give an inch, and instead slammed her telepathic powers through Wanda's brain and consciousness, seeking to destroy everything she could. Every time Wanda thought she'd shaken the attack through a powers flare, Oracle slipped around and found a different way in. The Imperial Guard had a hand gripping Wanda's hair as she pressed the advantage.

Wanda's fingers dug into the floor and the chaos around her flared in response to her distress. She was too battered to go after Oracle directly, unable to keep her focus on the shifting strings attached to the telepath long enough to do anything. But there was always another way, another path, and Wanda's eyes shifted to the ceiling above their heads as she commanded the chunk of cement to crumble, sending a shower of debris tumbling down towards the two women.

Billy's quick scan of Julian revealed no bleeding, but a load crack interrupted his inspection. He looked across the room in time to see the ceiling begin to collapse above Wanda and her opponent. He was too far to get to her and get them out, even with a teleport. He couldn't chant that quickly. A split second decision to try something else. "I want to teleport Wanda to me, I want to teleport Wanda to me," he began muttering. Wanda vanished moments before the cement crashed to the ground, reappearing at Billy's side. He threw his arms around her. "I didn't know if that would work. Are you alright? Still you? I didn't leave any bodyparts or your soul behind, did I?"

For a very long moment, Wanda was seriously certain she was going to vomit all over Billy. She'd been through teleportations before, more than she wanted to count, but _never_ had one made her feel quite like her insides were actually on the outside. Wanda clutched at Billy tightly as the room rocked, a result of both the forced teleportation and the mental beating she'd just endured. "All my bits are still intact," she said, voice and small smile shaky but she made the effort to ease Billy's worry. "My lunch, in a minute, though..."

"No time for chit-chat," Amanda broke in. "Communications room's just ahead. Time to cause some mayhem."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> X-Project is an X-Men Movieverse/MCU RPG on Dreamwidth. It started in 2003, set right after the second X-Men movie, and from there took on a life of its own. Thirteen years later it’s become a universe all its own, and includes characters from all walks of Marvel life – no character is too small or too obscure for X-Project. We roleplay mainly through writing logs on email, as well as posts on Dreamwidth.
> 
> If you're interested, check out the below links!
> 
>   
> [Welcome to X-Project](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Welcome_To_X-Project) | [Application](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Application) | [Available Characters](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Category:Unplayed_Characters) | [Game Wiki](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Main_Page) | [Read The Game](http://xp-friends.dreamwidth.org/read) | [FAQ](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=FAQ) | [Contact Us](mailto:x_moderators@googlegroups.com) | [Follow Us on Twitter!](http://twitter.com/#!/xprojectrpg) | [Rules](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Category:Policy) | [Tumblr](http://www.tumblr.com/blog/xprojectrpg) | [Application Checklist](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Application_Checklist)  
> 


	9. Log 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Strike team four under MA goes after the security systems controls.
> 
>  
> 
> _India Strike Team 4: Marie-Ange Colbert, Doreen Green, Clinton Barton, Korvus Rook'shir, Artie Maddicks_

Monkey Joe came running out, jumping up on Dori's shoulder, clicking happily. Dori raised an eyebrow as he went on, running around over her shoulder and finally settling on the other side. 

"Yeah?" Dori asked, "Uh... huh. I didn't tell you to do this." She paused as he cackled on, "No, this isn't a game, Monkey Joe. This really isn't-" Monkey Joe's voice pitched up, "Okay, okay. He says it's clear. He's also in trouble. No treats for him." 

They were moving as soon as Dori relayed the squirrel's report and Clint moved with them because that was what he'd been training for, right? This stuff, saving people. But it didn't feel much like saving people at the moment - Namor was dead and that just - how was that even real? Clint couldn't process that, he just couldn't wrap his head around it. And now he was here, half-trained and scared when he wasn't feeling numb, arrow nocked as they made their way toward the security system control building. 

If intelligence from a squirrel was what they could get, Marie-Ange would take it. "We need to move fast." Which went without saying. "Nevermore, Rocky, I need you on physical support. If our route ceases to be clear, knock out anything ahead of us. Robin." Marie-Ange had limits to the ridiculous codenames, she was not calling a young man mourning his friend 'Cupid' "Facade, keep the path clear behind us." 

"Fast as requested. Continue to advise if my pace is inappropriate." Korvus lengthened his stride, pushing off with enough strength to bound forward down the hallway several yards. Nandaki was still in place on his back to keep his hands free. 

Artie nodded acknowledgement, watching the path behind them and keeping a glimmer of illusion over the group - he couldn't, in this instance, make them entirely invisible, but he could and did make it them harder to see. There was one good thing about this job - he was too focussed on his work right now to pay attention to anything else. 

The sudden flare of green light staggered them; its intensity many times that of a camera flash, the light hitting like a physical force against them. In the midst of it, Manta made a gesture with her hand, and IDF troops began to open fire. 

Clint's only clue that something had gone wrong was a shriek from a squirrel somewhere ahead of him and the tell-tale brightening that indicated an extreme light burst. His eyes adjusted immediately, his grey-on-grey world just looking a little lighter than it had before. Such was not the case for the rest of his team and he found he was literally the last man standing. "Crap," he muttered, scanning quickly to figure out where the incapacitatingly bright light was coming from. 

Soldiers poured out of the trees behind them, apparently having flanked them, and Clint did the only thing he could think of to buy his teammates time. "Tarot, we've got about twenty yards to the building," he called. "Get there, I'll cover you all as best I can." He started shooting arrows, backing up slowing in the wake of his teammates as they made their way forward. He went for the knees, trying to slow the soldiers down without actually killing anyone, taking stock of all the moving variables on the field and tracking them as he let arrow after arrow fly. 

Marie-Ange uncurled from the ground, but instead of rushing ahead as Clint had requested, she crept backwards, shaking her head back and forth as though clearing her ears. "Can't see. No powers. Ten seconds." She said, barely audible over the crack of gunfire. "Keep us moving forward. Facade, take point." The fuzzy grey patches at the edge of her vision were slowly edging out the red-black of blindness. 

Around her she could hear the wet thunk of arrows, shouts and the clang of metal on metal - Nevermore, taking out weapons as he cleared them a path, and shouts and thumps as Rocky bounded from target to target, literally bouncing off heads as she knocked soldiers to the ground. 

"Five seconds." 

The ground grew mushy under their feet as red-black gave way to grey-white. As Marie-Ange's vision returned, so did her powers, and around them, a moving hedge of fungoid growth grew up, grey and white, speckled with liquid red and flaking black patches. 

It took Korvus slightly longer to recover than the others but, when he did, he was back to his feet and bounding forward. The slick moss underfoot changed his movement but didn't seem to hinder him nearly as much as it did the soldiers. Using their unsteady footing to his benefit, Korvus used the flat of his gigantic blade to swat away anyone that might stand between them and the control room. 

Artie stepped back and vanished. He'd been as blinded as Marie-Ange had by the flare of light but he didn't need to see right now. Korvus had been ...there, Marie-Ange there, to his right, Dori and Clint there and ... there. Up ahead, four feet above the ground and fifteen degrees off his right side was the target. That hadn't changed. Aim. Shoot and his eyesight returned. He kept moving, a pair of doubled images of himself appearing on the other side of the attacking group, drawing fire before they went down. They aimed and fired, visible and obvious. He aimed and shot, picking the targets out carefully, going for the centre of their mass, rather than the trickier headshots he could make at this distance and then, still hidden from sight, he began to pick off the men Rocky was knocking down. This time, he shot at their heads. 

Dori was moving quickly through the crowd of enemies. She did the most damage with her legs, so she used that, Monkey Joe moving with her, nipping at ankles and clawing at eyeballs. She was more focused on kicking people in the chest, which either knocked them down or sent them flying. Despite being tiny and with a bushy tail and bright personality, she could kicked ass. And she did. Telling Monkey Joe where to go, what to do. 

He'd counted off the seconds in his head as he fired shot after shot, managing not to lose his balance when the ground changed beneath him, but while he'd been training with Logan and Scott, he had nowhere near their level of experience. Clint didn't miss, but a few of his arrows went right through whatever it was Marie-Ange was causing to grow up between them. He crouched to avoid a spray of gunfire and wound up near her. "Sorry," he muttered. 

A man rounded the corner, running at an intense pace, using the ISF's gunfire as cover. As fast as anyone could react, he was on them. Korvus intercepted Commando with a strong shoulder check in order to keep the mutant from overpowering anyone else. A swing of Nandaki followed immediately, keeping Commando off balance and on the defensive so he could at least be corralled out of the way. 

Ducking out of the way of Korvus' suddenly pitched battle against a _very_ augmented dude, Clint helped Marie-Ange to the building, shooting when necessary but mostly letting his sense of space and motion guide them to avoid as many of the ISF as possible. Dori was doing her thing, bouncing around and scattering one group before moving on to another. He assumed Artie was the one picking people off bullet by bullet. Korvus was still locked in combat, sword all over the place in what Clint's eyes told him was a pretty damn skillful pattern of movement. 

"Go," Clint muttered to Marie-Ange, pausing at the entrance. "I'll make sure nobody gets in after you, we'll follow as soon as... whoever that dude is backs off enough, I'll get them in." Turning, he started loosing arrows again. 

The mottled grey hedge-maze that had been Marie-Ange's only option during her blindness fell away as she pushed the fire door open. The sole guard inside the security room opened fire, only to have his bullets strike a winged devil that dissolved as soon as it was shot. 

He didn't have time to aim for the red-haired woman just behind the devil - he was bleeding out on the floor from a pair of swords through his gut before the devil fully fell. His moans went ignored - but the frantic beeping of the bluetooth behind his ear did not. 

"I have control of the security systems. The guard sent out a panic alert before I could stop him." Marie-Ange said. "We are going to have more incoming." 

"I may be of little use." Korvus grunted out when he could between clashes with Commando. "He appears to be trained in hand-to-hand designed to defeat mutants such as myself." Despite the fighting and physical effort, Korvus appeared to be quite clear headed. "In fact, he may have trained to defeat me explicitly." 

Artie was still hidden behind his illusions but a projection appeared, again (not him, this time, because illusions looking like him had already been shot twice. Generic soldier, holding a gun, and so what if he'd taken the image from a news report on Iraq veterans?) at the far side of the battle. It wasn't real. It was real enough. It caught the attention of one of the ISF and Artie aimed, making the head shot. It was just a target. He dropped that illusion, head aching from the strain and moved on to simpler ones, coloured lights in their eyes, trying to distract and pick off the newcomers, one at a time. 

Stationed just inside the door, Clint picked off the newcomers Artie didn't hit - or tried to, at least. There were a _lot_ of them. "ISF backup's arrived," he yelled over his shoulder, checking his arrows as he ducked back behind the doorway. "Facade, Rocky - they're coming at you from the left - give it thirty seconds at best before they make a push and overwhelm you. Get in here. There's not enough cover out there. Nevermore - c'mon, man. That big dude's backing you into a corner." 

"We need to exit the building entirely, not take cover." Korvus interjected just before an abrupt turn, his blade catching Commando's legs from an odd angle to trip him. "I will facilitate if you can provide cover." He began to dash for the nearest wall that could lead them outside, trusting the team to do what they needed to. 

"Cover, yes I can do that." Marie-Ange pulled the blinking USB device from the security panel and replaced it with another, tinier and matte black, nearly invisible against the computer. ~Dive to your left in three... two...~ 

She'd gambled on Commando not speaking enough of the old dead Latin to know exactly what she said. Korvus didn't acknowledge her but did roll sharply on the one count... and was replaced with the largest, shaggiest, angriest bear seen anywhere in Asia. On all fours, the bear's head brushed the ceiling and it nearly filled the hallway, and it lumbered forward, pushing Commando back with the abnormal strength of something that couldn't exist. 

Commando shouted something that possibly only Korvus recognised as words you wouldn't say to your grandmother, and lashed out at the giant predator. It dissolved into goo, but just as quickly was replaced by another one, just as large and just as angry. 

Clint wasn't entirely sure if shooting the big guy would be helpful, but he went with it anyway, firing off a series of rapid shots at Commando's joints where his defenses might be vulnerable. His arrows went straight through the massive, shaggy bear - and the bear dissolved just like the first one before a third took its place. The arrow didn't seem to have much of an effect on Commando but it _did_ give Korvus enough time to disengage and, using his ridiculously large sword, carve a hole through the wall nearest the Landing Zone while Clint laid down suppressing fire.

Marie-Ange's nose was bleeding freely, staining her shirt. She'd wiped the blood away enough that her hand was smeared - and so was the card she gripped tightly. The impossible bears kept coming as Clint shot through and through them, reforming themselves from the same goop they dissolved into, in redder and redder shades. 

By the time Marie-Ange was tossed over the shoulder of a frantically scurrying Doreen Green and rushed out, the bears were wet and bloody, slimy with goo and malformed, headless bears, legless bears, lumpy tumorous bloody bears plugging the rough exit Korvus had cut open for the team.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> X-Project is an X-Men Movieverse/MCU RPG on Dreamwidth. It started in 2003, set right after the second X-Men movie, and from there took on a life of its own. Thirteen years later it’s become a universe all its own, and includes characters from all walks of Marvel life – no character is too small or too obscure for X-Project. We roleplay mainly through writing logs on email, as well as posts on Dreamwidth.
> 
> If you're interested, check out the below links!
> 
>   
> [Welcome to X-Project](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Welcome_To_X-Project) | [Application](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Application) | [Available Characters](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Category:Unplayed_Characters) | [Game Wiki](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Main_Page) | [Read The Game](http://xp-friends.dreamwidth.org/read) | [FAQ](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=FAQ) | [Contact Us](mailto:x_moderators@googlegroups.com) | [Follow Us on Twitter!](http://twitter.com/#!/xprojectrpg) | [Rules](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Category:Policy) | [Tumblr](http://www.tumblr.com/blog/xprojectrpg) | [Application Checklist](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Application_Checklist)  
> 


	10. Log 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarice teleports Jean out with Adrienne so she can work on the surpressor with Paige back at the Blackbird.

Clarice never missed when she teleported. She might get shunted a couple feet at most to bypass a wall (thank goodness her portals had THAT handy feature or she would be dead a million times over by now), but she didn't miss this much. Her portal shot them out a good 50 meters from the Blackbird instead of right beside it. "The fuck?" she asked, annoyed and more than a little shaken. She didn't miss! "What the fuck just happened?" she glared at Jean, though with the suppressor on, it was unlikely that she was the culprit. 

Adrienne saw the look Clarice gave Jean and put up her hands defensively. "I didn't do it! I don't even know what you're upset about! What's wrong?" 

"We should be over there," she pointed to the Blackbird as they began walking towards it. Clarice didn't want to risk porting right now, "Something messed with my teleportation. You know how many times that's happened since I got to Xavier's? None. Not once. I fucking teleported from outerspace down to Earth! It took a couple jumps, but I landed up reasonably safe and sound! From orbit! Whatever is doing this I am going to destroy. And then whomever did this? I'm going to kill," given everything that had already happened, yes, she was choosing to obsess and focus on this. It was better than thinking about their dead. 

"Okay, well... not me," Adrienne added once again. "Unless I give off some kind of power disrupting vibe," she suggested, only half joking. "My powers never work right. Maybe I'm contagious." If Clarice wanted to be pissed off at someone, she could be pissed off at Adrienne. Adrienne didn't mind. "But if I had to guess, I'd put my money on the shocky, kinky dog collar. I saw in my Reading that it was designed to suppress powers. Maybe it's contagious?" Though that wouldn't explain why her own powers had worked when she'd Read it. "Let's get Jean back to Guthrie to take it off and maybe she can go all science-nerd on it and tell us if it's the culprit. You up for a little hike, Doc?" 

 

Leaning heavily against Adrienne, it took everything Jean had to remain standing. It was hard enough to keep her concentration. With every lapse in silence her mind wandered. She was barely paying attention, no matter how hard she tried. It was all in the suppressor's design. Focus could bring the potential to use her powers. The question brought her back to the present, and she could only nod. 

"The Indians have....have shielding on the...facility. To keep teleporters from..." She tried to remember the next part, but failed as she saw the blackbird. The surroundings changed as a memory bled in, trading one shore for another. Kyle and Dori dragged Logan, thick pools of blood and chunks of meat staining the grass in his wake. Bodies littered the ground, one headless, one's skin as red as the blood that so many of those bodies left. A small red girl. She didn't move. Smoke. Smoke poured from her eyes. 

Smoke poured from his eyes too in the end. Ashes. Ashes. 

You. Killed. Him. 

We all fall down. 

Why? 

Jean let out a strangled cry, ripping herself away from Adrienne just before the feedback measures turned back on. She hit her knees, convulsing again for a few long moments until it finally stopped. 

"I'm sorry...I'm so sorry." 

"Okay, yeah, none of that, Doc," Clarice grunted, shifting so that she could help hold Jean better. "You want me to carry you?" she asked, "'Cause we've got a job to do and collapsing in an exhausted, grieving, regretful heap doesn't come until later. After we get the suppressor off you, for one," she wasn't having any of this. Blame could be laid later. She'd declared too many dead to stop now and let it be even more in vain than it already was. 

The shock had considerably drained what strength Jean had left to walk, and she was mostly dead weight when Clarice tried to pick her up, unable to move. She took in a shaky breath, then slowly nodded again, trying not to dwell on that statement. She didn't know what job was left for her. Everything had changed. 

And she had a feeling something even worse was about to happen, like the feeling she had just before Alkali Lake. 

"Can you manage her?" Adrienne asked Clarice, sounding vaguely annoyed by Jean's falling apart. "Or did you want to go halfsies? I can take her feet if you want." 

"I got her," Clarice replied, shifting things for a moment and then hauling Jean into a fireman's carry. Both Adrienne and Jean were taller than her, but she had practice with this sort of thing. Adjusting Jean unceremoniously, the purple woman grunted. "Alright then. Let's go."

Looking up from her tablet, Paige gave the new arrivals a smile. "Oh good, no search party required."

Scott pushed himself to his feet, mindless of his injuries as his eyes remained locked on his wife's face. "Jean..." The X-man took a tentative step towards the door, his eyes not moving from the person draped over Clarice's shoulders. "What happened out there?" he asked his teammates. 

"Fucking tech interfered with my portals," Clarice explained, bending and depositing Jean on the floor without ceremony. "And sit your ass back down, you're injured," she would see to him again in a minute. Water first. 

"Hey, Dollface," Adrienne beckoned to Paige, pulling her aside. "In the cell I Read the kinky dog collar thing Jean's got on. It's a little fucked up. I trusted myself to disable the remote detonation feature, but I heard a lot of talk during its history about it having a 'feedback system' and a 'suppressor.' I didn't want to poke around with that shit and risk hurting Jean. I figure it's going to take a professional's touch to disable it or keep it from shocking her like it's been doing. Do you know where we can find a professional?" she teased.

"Professional what? Because I think at this point I'm getting my business cards to just read Paige Guthrie, Professional Badass. Would that do?" Paige replied in kind, obviously appreciating the lighter tone. "Come on down."

 

The Blackbird had been fitted long ago with a convertible medical "bay" in case of emergencies. Some of the seats in the back would roll down and a bed would be made from them that allowed a doctor to work on their patient if necessary while headed back to their intended destination. 

Two makeshift beds had been made: one for Scott ( Who was currently not using it) and one for Jean, who was dumped on there while Paige got ready to work. The sound of Scott's voice gave Jean a huge sense of relief, and she let out a huge breath. 

"Oh, thank God," she said. He was alive. She had worried, since she had cut off her link to him to keep him from getting her feedback. It worked both ways, so she wasn't sure if he'd made it off Muir. 

She wanted to move, to get up, to hug him tightly and never let go. But her body, and the suppressor around her neck betrayed her, keeping her from doing it. 

"You...you're real, right?" she said faintly. 

It would be a cruel joke if she had been only imagining things. But perhaps that was her punishment. 

Scott's eyes were wet with unshed tears as he staggered over to Jean, wrapping his arms around her, "I'm real," he assured her softly, his voice catching in the back of his throat. He'd never seen her looking so vulnerable and hurt before. "See, just a few bumps and bruises but in one piece." He pulled back and looked her in the eyes, "What about you? Are you...?"

Jean clutched at Scott, burying her head against his shoulder like he were an anchor until he finally pulled away. She tried to keep from trembling, but it was all she could do to try to concentrate on the fact that he was here. She needed to be here with him and not let her mind take her places she didn't want to go.

She didn't speak at first, leaving the question hanging in the air. It was one she didn't know how to answer. She wanted to reassure him, to tell him she would be fine. It would all be fine. But she knew it wasn't. Things would never be the same. And she knew he knew it too.

"I...." Her eyes welled up with tears as she struggled to keep things together. She knew if she let herself go the collar would shock her again. 

"I don't know," she admitted. She stared at the women as they worked. They were broken, bewildered, beaten. She could feel it in the way they spoke to her, like she were a different person. Perhaps she was. 

"I can feel it...inside. Something...something stirring. Something...I don't know if I can control." She stared up at him despondently. 

"Something I need to fight."

Scott leaned forward and rested his head against Jean's. "You can do it. If anyone can control this it's you. But Jean, you don't have to do this alone, you've got us...me. Look at everything we've been through, you've beaten all of that, this is nothing." Scott tried his level best to keep his voice steady around the white lie. This was like nothing they'd ever faced, but if there was one thing Scott believed in, more than Charles' dream or anything else it was his wife. 

He twined his hands with Jean's. "I know you can beat this, whatever it is that's going on. We'll fight it together."

Jean closed her eyes. It was cold outside but she was still so very warm, as if she had a fever. 

"I killed him, Scott," she whispered. "He begged for his life and I killed him. The Brotherhood too. I didn't care. I thought he deserved it. I couldn't...stop myself. I tried to seal myself away...I wish they would've left me there." 

If whatever was inside of her caused anymore deaths then she would never forgive herself. But she was coming to realize that she knew what it was. She'd known all along. 

Perhaps she just wasn't ready to accept it yet. 

The pain in Jean's voice broke Scott's heart to hear at the same time as her words sent a shiver down his spine, "I..." he didn't know what to say, killing Magneto and the brotherhood like that wasn't something he'd ever thought Jean, or any of the X-men, could do and to hear her admit it really brought it home to him. "Don't say that. We...I...we were so worried. You just vanished and we had no idea what was happening." Scott held Jean tighter, "You said you couldn't control yourself...Do you think maybe it was something else, someone manipulating you or all our emotions feeding into you?"

"I don't know," Jean admitted. "I just...I feel...different. Sometimes I'd catch echoes...in Genosha...or with the demon in DC...or...or when I died...Like...I was...more." She shook her head. She didn't know how to explain it properly.  
"It scares me sometimes," she said, burying her face against his shoulder again. And sometimes...it didn't. Sometimes she wanted to give into that.  
But the idea of doing it scared her even more.  
His reassurances did nothing. She wanted to be comforted, she wanted to believe him. To think that everything was going to be okay and their lives were going to go right back to normal after this. But she knew that wasn't true.  
You can't resurrect the dead. 

Scott let his arms wrap around Jean, his anguish written on his face. There was nothing he could say, could do, that could fix things. As desperate as he was to make everything better, to make it as if the last week hadn't happened, he couldn't. It was a jarring realization for Scott, in the past there had always been something he could think of, a plan to handle events, but now he felt like events were spinning away and just carrying him with them. Scott tightened his arms wrapped around Jean as if he could protect her from everything just by the physical presence of holding her, and rested his head against hers. At least for now they were ahead of events and safe.

Another tear slipped down Jean's cheek, and she leaned in to kiss him, her hand slipping down to grip his. Under the antiseptic, dirt, and sweat, she could still smell a hint of the cologne she'd brought him for Christmas. It was a reminder of another life.  
"I love you, Scott Summers." 

This moment would not last, but she was going to take advantage of it as much as she could.  
"I love you too Jean," Scott replied leaning in to return a kiss before closing his eyes and leaning his head against hers, taking a deep breath and tightening his grip on her hand. "I love you so so much."

"If you guys are done being super awkward and making us all feel reeeeeally embarrassed," Adrienne muttered, fighting the temptation to roll her eyes at all the public displays of affection that were going on, "can we maybe get down to the kind-of-important task of taking the kinky dog collar off the Doc here?"

"Jeez, way to remind the lady with the recently dead brothers she's still single, too," Paige followed up, stilling her hands as the room turned to stare at her. "Too soon. Got it. Guthrie and Frost, ruining moments," she sang, off key. "Let's get this thing gone."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> X-Project is an X-Men Movieverse/MCU RPG on Dreamwidth. It started in 2003, set right after the second X-Men movie, and from there took on a life of its own. Thirteen years later it’s become a universe all its own, and includes characters from all walks of Marvel life – no character is too small or too obscure for X-Project. We roleplay mainly through writing logs on email, as well as posts on Dreamwidth.
> 
> If you're interested, check out the below links!
> 
>   
> [Welcome to X-Project](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Welcome_To_X-Project) | [Application](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Application) | [Available Characters](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Category:Unplayed_Characters) | [Game Wiki](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Main_Page) | [Read The Game](http://xp-friends.dreamwidth.org/read) | [FAQ](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=FAQ) | [Contact Us](mailto:x_moderators@googlegroups.com) | [Follow Us on Twitter!](http://twitter.com/#!/xprojectrpg) | [Rules](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Category:Policy) | [Tumblr](http://www.tumblr.com/blog/xprojectrpg) | [Application Checklist](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Application_Checklist)  
> 


	11. Log 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Strike team one joins strike team two attempting to contain the Guard, who are starting to overrun them.

Jessica cursed, her vision even more crimson as she hit the ground once more. Her body ached, invulnerability or not. Her head swam and she looked up to see the member of the Imperial Guard grinning at her. She cursed and coughed, looking around with bleary eyes. Fuck, she needed help. 

Though Ororo had been safe from the worst of the effects of the Guard while aloft in the air, it meant she had a bird’s-eye view of the carnage being wrought below her. The sight of not one but two of her companions writhing in pain was enough to cause her to drop back to the ground, sending on onslaught of icy sleet towards their opponent in an attempt to at least distract her, if not incapacitate her completely. 

It took a few moments for Logan to realize that the ringing in his ears wasn't just in his head. It was from the red skinned asshole attached to him like a tumor punching his face in with unholy glee. One misshapen clawed hand aimed for his face and Logan sliced upwards with his claws. The smile that crawled across his face was far from pleasant. He was back in the fight. 

He bucked hard to dislodge the rest of the red knobby blob that was attached to him. This was when claws on his feet would really come in handy. He could make out a head and arms, which he sank his claws into hard and fast. The flesh around his claws swelled and hardened into a tough shell like texture. Hobgoblin shoved back from him and landed on all fours several feet away where several additional protrusions rose and swam across his back. Were those wings forming? 

Logan rolled to his feet and shook his head, swiping at the blood covering his skin. He'd deal with that later. Right now, he needed to figure out what the hell this ugly thing was and how to take him down. He darted forward and slashed at the thing only for his claws to deflect off hardened skin. He circled around to chop at the half formed wings and was fascinated to see his claws cut through them like butter. Hobgoblin howled in pain, twisting to protect vulnerable flesh and sinking talons into Logan's gut as leverage to shove him away. 

As the earsplitting sonic attack on Logan ended, Callisto felt her own pain lessen somewhat. She was still as good as deaf, head ringing both from the noise and from Titan’s backhander, and would be for some time, but her other senses would make up for that and at least she could pay attention to the matter at hand. 

Meanwhile, the Matter in question had, well, gained rather more matter. Broader than ever, the now-giant had lumbered over to where Callisto had been tossed by his last punch and was now swinging one of those medicine-ball fists for another go. 

Springing to her feet, Callisto moved right into a dodge, ducking the fist and skirting round to flank Titan. A leg kicked out - not fast, but faster than one might expect someone of such a size to move, and Callisto was forced to back-up, reaching for the knives from her thigh holsters to replace the ones that had been thrown from her hands by the punch she took. 

Jessica flew upwards, dodging Hardball’s latest bounce in her direction. She was battered, bruised, and on the verge of crying in frustration. 

‘No matter how hard I hit this sonovabitch he keeps getting back up.’ She thought as she floated upwards. The man below her could bounce, but he couldn’t fly. He had to wait for her to come back toward the ground, an advantage that Jessica was willing to exploit. Suddenly, pain exploded across her back as something struck her and she struggled to maintain her altitude. She turned to see another member of the Imperial Guard grinning down at her. The man’s hands were surrounded by a strange, dark energy, and Jess cursed loud and long in response. 

“How many of you motherfuckers are there? Well, you just sealed the deal buddy. There’s officially going to be one less of you when I get my hands on you!” She screamed as she launched herself at her foe. 

However, Jess’s advance toward Kal-dipta and the swirling mass of Darkforce pooling in his fists only made the shaded Guard member grin wider. It became apparent why in the last ten feet of her collision course as the distraction provided enough time and loss of height for Hardball to properly gain the intercept course he needed. Jess only got a blurry look at Hardball in the reflection of Black Light’s sunglasses before impact, but not the impact either flyer was expecting. 

A leather-jacketed blonde man met Hardball with a flying kick seven feet below the aerial battle. There was no rebound between the two, however, as Longshot gripped onto the Guard member’s loose clothing and followed him to the ground. They landed with a thud, Arthur rolling to his feet to greet Jessica with a wink before he launched into a back handspring to dodge Kulanch-Gol as the bouncing man worked to recover his squandered momentum. 

Longshot tucked into a reverse three sixty vault over what had once been a roadblock, and beckoned the rubber man. "Let's dance, Bollywood." 

The cavalry was here. 

Remy followed up Longshot's charge with a spread of cards. The assault drove them back a bit, allowing them to regain their footing. 

Somewhere between getting slammed into another wall and Remy's arrival Wade actually spotted the asshole who kept flinging him around like a rag doll. He let le Beau's flashy cards cover for him for the single moment necessary to actually figure out what the hell was going on. And then he had it. 

The guy was siphoning energy from his own people, but it didn't look like any of them were upset about it despite the fact that they were all bleeding. He could just vaguely see the energy being absorbed by the Guard and then - then he was ducking because the almost invisible energy had been redirected and was coming right at him. Again. 

Cammie came in after, saving her energy by a quick walk, not a full out run. At least not until the last moment. When she did take off though, she was quick and right down to business. Her business being conducting with her fists. Fighting was where she felt alive and it showed. It was also a release of anger for her as well as toxin and right now, Cammie had a lot of anger to release. 

Jessica smelled her hair singe as a blast from the Guard member above her grazed the side of her head. She didn't give two shits about her hair, but she was stressed and ready for a fight. She glared up at the man above her, before she gave a passing glance down to where Rogue was still struggling to battle against the living sandpit she seemed to have found herself pitted against. Jessica's smile was practically Grinch worthy as an idea formed in her mind. She rocketed upwards, toward Blacklight, moving at an incredible speed. She flew in a zigzag pattern, doing her best to make herself a hard target. She rounded over Blacklight's head, tapping him with just enough force to make it sting. 

"Come on you motherfucker! Is that all you've fucking got! Bouncing boy down there did a better job of kicking my ass!" She taunted, rocketing downward. It was all she could do to stay confident and hope that the guard member took the bait. 

"Jean is clear." Remy's voice came over the comm. "It's time to get de hell out of here." 

"I want everyone to regroup!" Ororo instructed, trying not to let the relief show in her voice. "Pair up and neutralise the Guard in preparation for retreat." 

Callisto ducked another swinging fist, and gave a short nod. "'Kay, we're done here," she muttered, and feinted in one direction before lunging into a forward tumble _between_ Titan's legs as he stepped to follow. Swiping both arms out as she righted herself, Callisto then sprung to her feet and turned, waiting. Facing away from her, Titan's eyes widened. A moment later, he was crumpling to the ground like a marionette with its strings cut - which was, as it turned out, almost exactly what had happened. Having cut both his hamstrings, Callisto now surged forward as he fell, climbing his body as it pitched forward and plunging one dagger neatly down into the back of his neck, severing his spine. 

Rogue was quickly wearing down. This weaving and flying business for little progress was ridiculous. She needed to make a strong enough impact to scatter the material so a punch or two could finally put him down. 

Checking around, she saw Jessica battling with an equally difficult foe. "Jess! Toss it my way!". If she timed it right, the enemy would smash right into hers, causing enough of a scatter that Rogue could finally knock him out. 

Jessica nodded both to herself and to Rogue as she led Blacklight closer to her. She stopped abruptly and flew upwards, moving behind Blacklight as she did so. Her hand shot out and wrapped with a vice like grip around her opponent's neck. She held him tightly, but not too tightly, before she arched her arm back. The man struggled and protested in her grip, but Jessica steeled herself before she hurled him forward. She watched him whiz the short distance toward Quake, confident that she'd hit her mark 

And did it ever hit. _Atta girl,_ thought Rogue, proud of her girl. The impact caused enough of a surprise that Quake lost control of his sand. Taking full advatage of the opportunity, Rogue delved deep inside to get access to his powers fully, and coated her fists in a few layers of his own silica matter. Acting as boxing gloves, she pummeled her opponent senseless, leaving him in a heap next to Blacklight. 

Turning, she gave a thumbs up to Jess. 

Cammie was still fighting. It was an odd place she was in, starting to actually feel tired and worn down and not wanting to fight. Which was the first sign that things were bad, learning when you couldn't win was a survival tactic that had served her well in the past, but cutting and running here meant people were going to die. 

"Fuck," she muttered. 

" _Fuck_ ," Cammie repeated. It might make her a coward but she was leaving, though she never think her life was worth the life of others she wasn't going to try to talk anyone out of a decision that would let her live to see another day and if that made her a horrible fucking person, it made her a horrible fucking person. It didn't take much to get her to where she was standing close to Callisto. 

"So, fuck this party. Fuck this party and the horse it road in on." 

Wade heard the call for retreat through his earwig and rolled to his feet. He dodged another concussive blast. As he took shelter behind one of the few remaining columns, he took another moment to go over the information he had on the creeper throwing siphoned energy at him. 

It looked like the pale dude with the ridiculous fingers was pulling directly from the people around him. Theoretically, he needed the energy to be like, alive. You had to be living to create energy, your synapses quite firing their little electric pulses or whatever when you croaked. 

Thus, also theoretically, taking out the energy source... would require that the energy source be less... alive. He caught sight of Arthur rebounding back and forth on the field, somehow avoiding the little bouncy dude and all the other powers related fiascoes going on out there. 

"Hey, Longshot," he shouted, making himself visible for just long enough for the other man to see him. "Get over here real quick!" 

Arthur was in the middle of a conversation. 

"The thing I don't get about Bollywood, Bollywood," Hardball lunged aggressively in a blur, "Is why it hasn't been bigger in the States. Ridiculous stunts. Dancing. Beautiful --" He paused mid floor routine, turning to face Wade's direction. Hardball's hyper-accelerated punch hit air, and the man's momentum carried him forward and away. Arthur frowned, turning his gaze to follow. 

"I'm in the middle of a thing." 

"Yeah, but I have an idea for a different thing and Ping-Pong over there'll wait," Wade called, gesturing for Arthur to move. "C'mon, real quick." He was working on a time limit. He thought. Maybe. 

The other man shrugged and walked across the open area toward Wade's cover without a stray bullet or energy blast grazing him. "Okay. Shoot. But not literally." 

Wade waited until Arthur was close enough and then turned and shot a few bullets in the pale, creepy dude's direction before sliding into position behind the other man. 

One bullet ricocheted off a downed piece of steel girding and hit an ISF soldier right between the eyes. Another soldier, reaching for the first, stepped into the second bullet and went down with a brand new hole in his heart. Yet another man, blood running down his arm from his willing offering to Zenith, ducked behind a steel drum of some sort, tripped, knocked it over, and essentially fell face first into the third bullet. Peeking over Arthur's shoulder, Wade said, "You are my _favorite_ ," as he started shooting the other ISF soldiers. 

Longshot sighed long and hard, pressing himself against the inside of pillar with knives primed for any advancing attackers. "Reassure me that you're not just using me as a rabbit's foot." 

"I'm not _just_ using you as a rabbit's foot," Wade said, pausing just long enough to reload both his guns. "I'm also using you as a shield. And a potential backup weapons system if I go down - hey, did that bouncy dude just get stuck in that thing over there?" 

They shifted together, guns and knives, to allow Arthur to get a better look at Hardball. 

Deadpool was correct. In Hardball's ricochets, having been previously forced to the corner of room where Zenith held his hostages, the bouncing man had hit an importune angle and gotten himself wedged between a defensive barrier, a doorway, and what looked to be a half-closed, half-dented blast door. He also blocked the inflow of ISF soldiers. 

"Well then. 99 problems and a ..." 

They rolled again as a concussive blast whooshed overhead. A smattering of debris fell from the ceiling. 

"What is that guy's deal?" 

"Energy projector sort of, I think," Wade said. "Looks like he uses blood. Trying to lessen the number of people supplying that. Looks weird, right? All... pale and creepy. What's he even use those fingers for?" 

At this, Zenith grabbed a passing solider and used his claws to rip a gash in the man's arm to supplement his dwindling number of volunteers. 

"There's that," Arthur supplied unhelpfully. He threw a knife at the security panel near where Hardball was hard-pressed, and sparks flew as the door stopped moving completely form where industrious soldiers had been working to resolve the Guard's plight. Bollywood was looking pale. 

"So the plan is to liberate his hostages?" 

"Uh," Wade said, pausing as he lined up another shot. "Well." He almost agreed with Arthur purely to get things done, but then - he couldn't _lie_ to Arthur. It'd be like lying to a puppy and withholding a delicious treat from it. "Not exactly." 

Arthur rolled his eyes, and his left eye flared bright. "Speed then. Cover me." 

At that, he rolled from the pillar into Zenith's line of sight. 

So Wade covered Arthur even though... it didn't... seem like covering him was entirely necessary. He shot around the other man, took out an ISF soldier coming up in his blind spot, and waited to see what Arthur's plan turned out to be. 

"Plan" was likely generous, as Longshot merely launched himself at the white-masked man with a generous helping of knives. To say Zenith was caught off guard was a bit on an understatement, and Arthur's continual rolls and side movements made getting a clear blast off very difficult. 

One blast. Another ISF volunteer down. Messily. Arthur closed the distance. 

A second blast. Wilder. A portion of the wall taken out. 

Arthur gripped Zenith's mask and did a 360 turn against the newly freed debris and knocked the man off balance. A horribly wild, powerful concussive blast pulsed upward only to send boulders and debris down up Zenith's remaining blood donors. 

Wade couldn't help grinning. "I wanna take you on all my missions," he called to Arthur even as the walls and ceiling settled. 

Logan wrapped himself around the arm Hobgoblin had buried in his gut and held on tight to keep from being thrown. "That's it, bub. I've had it with you and your shitty friends givin' me the day from hell. I'm puttin' you down and you're gonna stay down." 

Hobgoblin slammed him into the ground several times with no avail then finally resorted to turning his skin slippery. Logan slid free and immediately started slicing away parts of Hobgoblin in a constant whirl of flashing claws. 

Zenith shook off Arthur's attack, staggering to his feet. The only target close enough to him was the green haired girl, and he leapt at her almost on instinct. She was turning as he landed beside her, only to be staggered by a punch that nearly broke her cheekbone. As she reeled, he grabbed at her, claws shredding her shirt over the one shoulder pulling up furrows of blood as the other grabbed her bare throat. 

"Hey, fuck face, LET ME GO!" Cammie shouted, releasing as much toxin as she could both into the air and into this guy's skin where he grabbed her. What happened next was something that had _never_ happened before. Shit exploded, knocking her back on her ass, singing her hair and leaving a toxic smelling hole in the ground. Cammie's was seeing double and tried to get back to her feet, convinced since she was in one piece (if not shocked and burnt) that this asshole would be too. The ringing in her ears made it impossible to hear anything and she stumbled around, fists up. 

"Nice try, asshole! I'm still here! Come and get some!" she yelled, barely able to hear herself. 

Powers interactions were a fascinating topic. Also a potentially explosive one. The toxic gas formed by Zenith and Cammie's combination would've been almost a boon in the right situation - but not with so many of their own people in its path. It was longer than Ororo would've liked before she was able to whip up a wind to sweep the gas away with a gust of wind, but hopefully before anyone suffered its ill effects. 

Jessica grinned as Rogue finished off the sandman wannabe. Her confidence grew as the man collapsed next to Blacklight and she attempted to telegraph this to Rogue. Before she could open her mouth to say anything, however, the sound of rushing air reached her ears. It was familiar to her and reminded her of the sound a body cutting through the air at a high speed made. Her stomach dropped as she turned to see a powerfully built man rocketing through the air toward her. She opened her mouth to cry out all while attempting to fly upwards, but found that neither of her efforts were sufficient to avoid what came next. A powerful fist was thrown her way and drove straight into her nose. She yelled, confused and in pain, as blood spurted from her nostrils. The force of the blow through her head back, followed by the rest of her body. She spiraled downwards, senseless, before she struck the ground with a clap like thunder. She attempted to stand, to move, but blackness was creeping in on the edges of her vision. She clawed at the dirt, but found that her efforts were in vain and collapsed. 

The only certainty in battle was its inherent uncertainty. One second Rogue was filled with pride at her pupil's moves, and the next she was as equally blindsided by the attack on Jessica. 

Now that she was free, Rogue flew at a speed she didn't know she possessed and pulled the same move on Gladiator, barreling into him enough to get enough space between Jessica and him. 

Hell hath no fury like one pissed off Southerner. 

Rogue made quick work of him, a few hits to her own body as collateral but she didn't feel it. She was going to protect Jessica, dammit. The girl shouldn't even have been here in the first place. 

Wade paused just long enough to check his ammo in his handguns before making a dive out into the middle of the zone still sort of noxious with poison. Didn't bother him, though, so he paused just long enough to holster a gun and scoop up Cammie. She wasn't looking so hot. Then the mercenary started backing slowly toward their other team members as they began their retreat. This wasn't looking good. Not good at all. And he didn't know where Arthur'd gone in all the rubble that'd fallen. The dude was probably alright. Probably. But given the number of reinforcements he could see approaching, he couldn't stop or go back to check without risking getting captured himself. He _hated_ these situations.

Meanwhile, Callisto was making quick and economic work of the remaining ISF forces. She'd been shot in the thigh at some point, a dark stain spreading out across her already filthy pants-leg, but with the adrenaline coursing through her system it had already almost worked its way back out, and it certainly wasn't stopping her from putting the boot in where required. The sight of the skinny brunette literally swinging one burly soldier into another like an athlete swinging a hammer might have been comic were the situation not so dire, but as the dead and unconscious bodies built up, she began to look worried.

"That gas was heavy," she called in Ororo's direction as she retrieved one of her throwing knives from an unfortunate man's gut. "There's still some in the air; I don't think we wanna be here much longer."

"Agreed," came the muttered response and then, across the comms, "the Guard has been delayed-" not neutralised, but there was no hope of that now "-I want all team members to evacuate. _Now_." 

_While we still can._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> X-Project is an X-Men Movieverse/MCU RPG on Dreamwidth. It started in 2003, set right after the second X-Men movie, and from there took on a life of its own. Thirteen years later it’s become a universe all its own, and includes characters from all walks of Marvel life – no character is too small or too obscure for X-Project. We roleplay mainly through writing logs on email, as well as posts on Dreamwidth.
> 
> If you're interested, check out the below links!
> 
>   
> [Welcome to X-Project](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Welcome_To_X-Project) | [Application](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Application) | [Available Characters](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Category:Unplayed_Characters) | [Game Wiki](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Main_Page) | [Read The Game](http://xp-friends.dreamwidth.org/read) | [FAQ](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=FAQ) | [Contact Us](mailto:x_moderators@googlegroups.com) | [Follow Us on Twitter!](http://twitter.com/#!/xprojectrpg) | [Rules](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Category:Policy) | [Tumblr](http://www.tumblr.com/blog/xprojectrpg) | [Application Checklist](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Application_Checklist)  
> 


	12. Log 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Strike team three and four blast open a way to the landing zone where Clarice is ferrying them out.

"Time to be away on our toes!" Amanda yelled over the din of frying electronic equipment. "And we've got incoming!" 

The battle with Oracle, Nightside and Magique had slowed them down more than they'd had time for and they'd barely made their objective of destroying the communications array for the base. Now with the alert that it was time to leave, Wanda and her small group found themselves having to fight their way back out of the wrecked section and to the landing zone, in various stages of physical fitness. Julian and Pixie were in the worst condition, the young telekinetic fighting through a concussion and a head injury, Pixie bruised and battered from her recent encounter with the wrong end of a baton. There wasn't a lot in the way of options for them to be able to get out. Except maybe the direct way. 

"Wiccan!" Amanda waved to get her student's attention. "Feel like blowing something up?" 

"I thought you'd never ask!" Billy was exhausted, but he still managed a small grin. "You probably want to stand back. And cover your ears," he added as an afterthought. He made his way to the other end of the hall, studying the concrete wall for a minute. Just one more thing standing in their way. He didn't have a lot of spells to blow things up--at least not intentionally--but a properly placed bolt should do the trick. He paced halfway back, turned and planted his staff on the floor, staring at it. The black wood began to glow faintly, and electricity began to crackle around it. He focused more intently,and the sparks stopped, drawn into the staff, which began to glow brighter, almost difficult to look at. With a sharp motion, he slammed the end into the ground, and a searing bolt of lightning arced down the hallway, hitting the wall with a sonic boom that rattled the building. Light from outside poured through a now gaping hole, reflecting off the settling dust. 

"After you," he said, looking back to Wanda for direction. Wanda shoved herself up off the wall, brushing at the dust that started to settled from the explosion. 

"Nice work," she said, giving him a tight grin despite the headache that thrummed through her. It was her sincere hope that Oracle had been injured or, better, killed, in the collapse. She knew she was in no condition to go another round with the telepath. Before stepping through the hole, she activated her powers, hex bolts glinting dangerously around her hands. She might not be able to go toe-to-toe with Oracle but she was prepared to meet whatever was on the other side head on. 

Amanda followed, Julian's arm pulled over her shoulders as she half-supported his weight. "C'mon, Pixie," she called over her shoulder to her other student. "Stick close, yeah?" 

"Here," Pixie replied. Her voice sounded far away to her own ears. She followed Amanda and Julian through the hole, their forms dark against the bright light coming from the other side. "I'm here," she repeated quietly, to herself. She looked down at her right hand and the Soul Dagger in her grasp. Whatever else she was, she was still Megan Gwynn and she was still alive. 

Clint had started shooting at men and women in front of them rather than behind because he was running low on arrows and at least this way he could pick them up off the bodies he dropped. He'd shut his brain off, moving almost entirely on instinct. The explosion, though, had him wheeling in its direction, arrow nocked as the dust settled. He nearly released the shot, only his exceptional eyesight letting him see that it was Wanda's group. 

"Scarlet Witch and company incoming," he called to Marie-Ange, shooting a man wielding a baton in the corridor behind Pixie in the chest to knock him backward into the other ISF soldiers. Billy was there. That was good. 

"Keep them covered." 

Well that was clearly unnecessary because young mister Barton was already notching another - and another arrow, and sending them flying. 

"Rocky, Facade, keep close." Marie-Ange turned, pulled a plain playing card from her sleeve and its enormous twin slammed down on an ISF soldier, crushing his torso and head. "Rocky, as soon as Robin says go, run and give them close fighting support. Facade, blind anyone who gets near her. I will keep the crowds down."

"Will do," Clint answered, perhaps unnecessarily. "Facade, can you let them see us so they know where we are? I think the landing zone's due east and we could probably use the chaos people to get through. Next wave of ISF to our right in three - two - one - Rocky go." 

"Rocket J. Squirrel is ON THE JOB," Dori said. She was more focused than usual, more intense. They just had to get through all of this, and then things would be okay again. Then there'd be time to deal with everything. Monkey Joe took a moment and rubbed his cheek against hers. It was a half a second movement, a quiet motion, "Yeah, I know. Thanks," she said to the squirrel. 

"I got this!" Artie nodded and held up a hand, counting down to the moment he dropped their cover on his fingers. _Five... four... three... two.... one_ and he let half the illusions he had covering the group go. There was some relief in the throbbing headache he had but pain spiked behind his eyes again as he turned to start flaring lights into the eyes of the people Dori was fighting, blinding them, one after another.

Never had Amanda been so glad to see anyone in a black leather uniform. "Support's here!" she called to the rest of the group with her, pulling Julian's arm tighter over her shoulder and straightening up. They could make it now. Especially since... were those _arrows_? She looked around, half-expecting to see Laurie, despite knowing Laurie was back at the mansion in medlab with only one arm, and instead realised it was one of the new trainees. Clint, that was his name. 

Her wounded comrade struggled along, the world ringing loudly, in a muted sort of way which he couldn't really process, in his ears. Julian struggled to put one foot before the other, whomever was helping him along, he made a note to buy them something nice when they got back from this forsaken pimple on the ass end of no where...unless it was Clint. He was, strangely, acutely aware of his surroundings in a way, as random waves and lines of force washed out from him like a shirt off sonar. He couldn't do anything about the guards that were rushing them, the pressure behind his eyes was seeing to that. Something changed above them, new fliers, but they didn't feel right...unfamiliar, not that he was an expert, but the blind folded exercises he'd done at the temple taught him to recognize hostile posturing. "Incoming," he muttered weakly, unsure if the words were coming out right, "a-above...us."

Amanda caught the half-coherent words and looked up. "Fuck. Fucking fuckity fuckweasels."

A wash of flame rained down on the mutants. The Imperial Guard had flanked them, coming in from a different direction than anticipated and as a result, were on them before they could regroup properly. When the flame hit, the ground itself seemed to burst into flame, raging curtains of it cutting off the different groups of X-Men.

Marie-Ange had hit the ground, arms covering her head when the flames rolled over her. She could smell her hair burning and the heat cooking her skin - but no pain, except the familiar deep stab of a migraine behind her eye. She was up faster than she'd dropped, not even fully aware of how she got her feet under her. 

Around her, the fire crawled away, literally, growing flaming legs and arms, making a clear circle of perfect calm about Marie-Ange. A ring of it rolled itself up, sprouting wings and eyes by the hundreds, and impossibly, took flight. 

There was a cry over to Marie-Ange's left and Magique abruptly appeared, shocked out of her invisibility illusion by the hijacking of her fire. "How...?" she stuttered, looking wide-eyed at the fiery apparition. Then her eyes narrowed - if it was to be showdown between two illusionists, so be it. And she had other weapons - her hand dropped to the pistol on her belt.

The wheel of flame zipped past Magique, clipping her shoulder, making it clear _this_ was no illusion. The flames spluttered briefly, leading the Guardswoman spattered in ooze and then it sped off - and made a sharp U-turn to return back, smaller but speedier as it buzzed past her head. 

It was... sorta possible to see the difference between Magique's illusions and reality. If you had the time and leisure to focus down on them. If you knew that there was no possibility of there being a pyrokinetic here. Artie didn't have those luxuries. He was too tired, his head ached too much to manage full invisibility once he moved away from the wall and he couldn't get a clean shot at Magique. He dropped the seeming of the wall he'd hidden behind, and began to move, covering her eyes and face in a globe of impenetrable blackness for the few seconds it took to cover the distance between them. Artie hit her from behind, slamming the butt of his pistol into her temple.

Pixie glanced back towards the corridor from which they'd emerged as the illusionary fire disappeared. They were still ahead of the ISF soldiers there. She was still going to make it out of here. She focused again on her path forward, determined that she wouldn't let Amanda and Julian out of her sight. But what she saw next stopped her dead in her tracks. There he was - the Guard with the body made of fire. She felt sick, suddenly flooded with the raw memory of Namor burning alive.

"It's him! HE KILLED NAMOR!" Her voice collapsed into a sound halfway between yelling and crying.

An arrow already nocked, Clint felt something very tenuous in his chest snap at Pixie's words as he wheeled around to see the figure she'd seen. The world around him seemed to slow as he sighted down the shaft, past the arrowhead, and at the flaming figure of the man who'd killed his friend. It wasn't a conscious decision to note his direction and speed, the wind and the fight around them, to know that shooting the arrow at that angle right then would mean the other man would fly right into it. 

It was a good shot. 

The flames surrounding Starbolt's body went out and he plummeted, dead long before he hit the ground, Clint's arrow embedded in his eye.

A white-topped blur shot out of the breach in the wall. "Murderer!" screamed Oracle, physically and mentally, her psionic screech drilling into the minds of everyone there. Propelled by her telekinesis, she slammed into Clint, her momentum throwing him violently back into the ruins of the security building. The Guard stopped, hanging in mid-air, and extended her hand, slowly pulling her fingers into a fist. At the same time, reflected in the movement, the building collapsing in on itself, until it was nothing more than a ball of rubble, suspended in the air.  
Then with a note of finality, the mass dropped to the ground with a thump, pieces of brick and metal and plaster falling to the ground. 

Oracle turned to the rest of the group, eyes wild with grief. "Your turn," she hissed. Around her, the ISF soldiers and remaining Guard had rallied, and were circling the group, intent on hemming them in. 

Billy finally spotted Clint and gave a sigh of relief. His eyes followed the last arrow's path, and he let out a loud "Yes," as it hit its mark. He was just beginning to spin back and give Clint a thumbs up, when he heard Oracle's screech. Time slowed to a crawl. He tried to call lightning to his already outstretched arm, but it was like moving through syrup, with as little success. Seconds stretched into hours, and he tried to call up a spell to save him. Like a night terror, though, he had no voice, no sound came, and he watched helplessly as the building imploded. His staff clattered to the ground, all the strength fleeing his arms and hands as he stood there in shock.

Red blazing light tore around the ground and slammed into the ground between the remaining Guard and the others scrambling in the direction of what was hopefully a way out. Wanda had reached the last obstacle first, her height having allowed her to sprint to the high ground. She let loose a few more hex bolts, adding in the other attempts to keep the attackers at bay. A well placed hex bolt chewed through a few ISF soldiers but Wanda knew it was a losing battle.

Turning sharply, Wanda slammed her hands against the surface of the wall at the same time she raked aside all the lethargic lines that normally were attached to something that solid. The end result was a loud explosion as the bricks blasted away from her, leaving a large, jagged hole.

" _Go! Now!_ " Wanda directed, stepping aside to cover their retreat. 

Except there was a crazed telepath/telekinetic on their tails, way too close for comfort. Amanda slipped out from under Julian's arm, holding him steady while she beckoned Dori over. "Oi, Rocky, get pretty boy here through," she instructed, passing the concussed teek over to his long-term friend. "Facade, keep 'em covered. Tarot, grab Wiccan and Pixie, make sure they keep moving, yeah?" The witch rattled off directions quickly, not waiting for responses or questions. Instead, she was turning back towards Oracle, reaching over her shoulder and pulling a short stick out of her pack, a stick any regular visitor would have recognised as the one that sat on a particular shelf in her apartment, along with a framed sketch of a young Amanda and a dark-haired young man rubbing his nose meditatively. 

At her mentor's words, Pixie lurched into movement, shaking, nudging the others forward as she limped towards the hole. "C'mon, though here," she said, while she could only think, "He's dead. He's dead." No, no time to think about that now. She had to focus on moving, or she would be dead. Like Namor. And Clint. And... "We have to go." 

Marie-Ange had already grabbed Billy's arm, and was pulling him along. "Oui, yes, move, quickly." She said - unnecessarily to Pixie, the Welsh young woman was already moving as fast as she could. "Facade, I need rough terrain!" She hadn't finished the request when Artie flashed illusionary spikes of rock at her, and the stones duplicated themselves in Marie-Ange's wake, creating a treacherous path for anyone who tried to follow. 

Oracle blocked one of Wanda's hex bolts with a TK shield and in turn raised a chunk of the building debris to hurl back at her. But before she could act, Amanda stepped up in front of her. 

"Sorry, blondie. But I can't let you do that." Amanda had the wych clutched in one hand, but made no attempt to raise it. Oracle sneered at the short blonde. 

"I remember you. It's a pity Dacoit isn't here to see me exact his revenge on you. But I won't kill you. That would be too easy. Better I send you back to your murdering friends a blithering idiot." And with that, Oracle plunged into Amanda's defenseless mind, intent on shredding it to pieces with her telepathy. 

To those watching, the two stood motionless only for half a minute. The stick in the witch's hand glowed a variety of neon colours, echoing briefly in her eyes before Oracle suddenly stiffened. The telepath shuddered, a small whining noise escaping her lips, and then she dropped soundlessly to the ground, twitching slightly. 

Amanda didn't waste time - taking advantage of the stunned shock of the troops, she ran back towards the hole in the wall, Wanda following as she ducked through. 

Counting the bodies as people emerged, Clarice paused, realizing they were missing some and why. She was getting too adept at reading the body language. More death certificates. "This all?" she confirmed, opening a portal. 

Wanda stared into the portal as the others gathered to finally leave. "All that are left," she confirmed softly, unwilling to look back towards the battlefield. "Get us out of here, Clarice," Wanda continued, shoulders slumped in exhaustion as she stepped towards the portal. They were leaving one graveyard behind but God only knew what they were heading into next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> X-Project is an X-Men Movieverse/MCU RPG on Dreamwidth. It started in 2003, set right after the second X-Men movie, and from there took on a life of its own. Thirteen years later it’s become a universe all its own, and includes characters from all walks of Marvel life – no character is too small or too obscure for X-Project. We roleplay mainly through writing logs on email, as well as posts on Dreamwidth.
> 
> If you're interested, check out the below links!
> 
>   
> [Welcome to X-Project](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Welcome_To_X-Project) | [Application](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Application) | [Available Characters](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Category:Unplayed_Characters) | [Game Wiki](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Main_Page) | [Read The Game](http://xp-friends.dreamwidth.org/read) | [FAQ](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=FAQ) | [Contact Us](mailto:x_moderators@googlegroups.com) | [Follow Us on Twitter!](http://twitter.com/#!/xprojectrpg) | [Rules](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Category:Policy) | [Tumblr](http://www.tumblr.com/blog/xprojectrpg) | [Application Checklist](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Application_Checklist)  
> 


	13. Log 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final group makes it to the landing zone, several falling along the way. Clarice is wounded and unleashes a massive powers flare, buying them enough time to get clear.

The Guardsmen fell back under the furious assault, buying the team a moment to breathe as they regrouped. The first group had already retreated back to the landing zone that Blink had established at the extent of her range. Now it was them serving as the rear guard, falling back slowly and keeping the Guard from reaching the rest of the team as Blink teleported them back to the Blackbird. Remy pulled them to a temporary halt as the teams came together, watching the Guard rally and looking at the distance they still had to travel. 

It was a cold equation. There were many Guardsmen, too many ISF soldiers, and too much firepower coming their way to retreat as a group without being picked off one by one. As Storm dropped down beside him, he took a second to mutter to her. "Dis is not going our way." 

"We have given too much ground," she agreed, keen eyes assessing the state of their foes and finding them all too intact. Her group - both groups - had fought well but it came down to being outnumbered and overpowered. "We do not have the time we need to ensure everyone's safe evacuation. They will advance and as our numbers dwindle, so will our ability to hold them off." 

"Only way dat I see getting most of dem out is if someone stays behind long enough to delay dem from advancing. But whoever it is stays here, one way or 'nother." Remy said, meeting her gaze. 

"I would not ask anyone to do a task I would not do myself," she told him. "These are our people - we must ensure their safety." 

"I guess dat answers dat." Remy gave a look over the battlefield. "You ready for dis, chere?" 

"In truth? No, but that has never been a reason to refrain from doing what we must." 

Remy turned to the others. "Wolverine, Rogue... get dem to de landing zone. We going to buy you some time." 

Rogue gave a salute to Gambit before nodding towards Wolverine. He could get the ones out closest to the exit. With her flight, she could zip in and out easily enough, and avoid whatever ongoing attacks there were. 

So much had happened and so much was still happening. 

Logan nodded at Gambit. This wasn't the time for heroics. They'd been lucky to get as much time as they had. Blink's continual reports of who'd been evacuated were a reassuring presence in his ear. Now they just had to finish the job. He prowled a wide perimeter around their exit, prepared to dispatch anything and anyone that got too close. 

"Mutants coming," Callisto said, still gathering together her knives from various places around the corridor, wiping them on her legs and returning them to her holsters. "A lot of them. We'd better fall back." 

Jessica's vision swam, the corridor bending and twisting strangely around her. A bit of blood trickled down from her nose and her entire body felt as though it were on fire. Whoever the fuck that Gladiator bastard was, he hit like a fucking tank. She knew her breaths were coming in strange, uneven pants and she was trying to quiet herself. The group had enough to worry about without her distracting them. She'd be fine, eventually. If they made it out of here. "P-point me at what to hit. I-I think I could carry someone, if they need it." She wheezed. It was still a bit difficult to draw in breath and her lungs burned painfully. 

"Sorry, chickadee, but you're the first one goin' home." There was no way Rogue could leave her girl when she was so bashed up. 

The exit looked so far away, and even though she knew Logan could get her there in time, there was nothing wrong with speeding things up. 

She punched and kicked her way through the wall, leading a path to the surface. "This'll be faster, Wolverine." 

Scooping Jessica up, there was little resistance even though the girl obviously didn't want to go. Placing her at the new entrance, Rogue scanned to see who was next. 

A blond head of hair appeared out from the battle-strewn rubble, and Arthur was doing much the same as Callisto, except that he was taking longer to look at the blades. The man had been serving as best as he could in a first aid capacity, but now he, or, well, his luck, was effectively acting as a shield between the ISF assault and their retreat. It was dreadfully boring being shot at, but Longshot's eye was shining like a beacon. Anything shot their way went wide. This gave excellent cover for Rogue as she steadily zipped in and out of her improvised hole and Wolverine's cover against any sad soul the Guard voted had to try to go in on foot. 

One lift, two lifts. There was movement on the Guard’s Side. 

Arthur blinked, running a hand through his hair. That couldn't be right. He squinted back at the enemy's fortified position, and his stomach dropped hard. "Hey, anyone," his voice was shaky, "Yeah. Tell me we got everyone out. They're getting creative." 

"Creative isn't going to be favorable for us right now," Wade said, voice oddly detached. He turned to look over the entirety of the group, eyes settling on Callisto. "Thing One, get Scorpion here up to Rogue for evac transport, then you go. Try not to get too much of her blood on you. I'll hang out down here with Wolverine until we're sure everybody's through. Rogue, come back and pick me up next, then Longshot - Wolverine can use his claws to climb if he needs to." Then he turned away from Remy and Ororo because he was pretty sure he knew what they were doing and it was never an easy thing to watch. 

Those who had come to rescue Jean — their teammates, their friends — had fled far enough to create a pocket of space between them and the approaching enemy. A space that needed filled, though nothing could fill the emptiness that came with such a stark and final resolution. 

With a deep breath Ororo spread her arms, calling upon the last shreds of moisture in the air. Slowly, too slowly, it began to coalesce, gathering around her and Remy, shrouding them in a thick fog that for a moment obscured them from sight. 

"Guess dis de last chance to disappear to a new life in Europe." Remy said, but took her hand anyway. The rising fog started to take on a pinkish hue as it rose from them, crackling slightly from the kinetic energy that Remy was pumping into each of the water droplets of the fog. 

"You know I would go anywhere in the world for you, _mpenzi_ ," came the reply; it was hard to see her through the fog but he could feel her hand in his, warm and reassuring. "Where shall it be this time? Prague? Zermatt?" 

"Always been partial to Venice." Remy said with a smile. His skin began to tingle as energy flowed between Ororo and him through their hands. They were both grounded, acting as a conduit for the power that was starting to flow through them. The hue of the cloud was starting to brighten and deepen in colour as more energy was pushed into it. "Tell you what, Stormy. All de time we been together, Remy wouldn't trade a moment of it for all de world." 

The electric shiver that ran through her at his words had nothing to do with the static she was pulling from the atmosphere and everything to do with how he still made her feel with just the touch of his hand and a few simple words. "Nor would I. You are the best man I know, Remy LeBeau," she said, the wind carrying the words straight to his ears. "Loving you has been so very easy." 

"Loving you been de most terrifying thing dat I've ever done. And de best by far." Electricity started to leap between the tiny water particles as the lightning and static electricity combined to make the now vast cloud hum and throb with energy. Dacoit shouted for an assault, and the nearest Guardsmen plunged into the cloud along with dozens of IDF. 

_The most terrifying thing I've ever done. And the best by far. Until now._

All it took was letting go. 

The tiny water molecules had been fueled with the same kinetic energy as a car crash, each one suspended in a static web of constantly churning lightning. When the static web stopped, all of them unleashed with the same fury. Hundreds of billions droplets turned into unharnessed pure power, whipsawing through the cloud. There was only the sound of thunder from the explosion, as the flash ended and the atmosphere crashed in. The Guardsmen and IDF who had entered the cloud, and the earth around had been atomized by the raw energy. And of the pair in the very middle, there remained no sign. 

Back at the safe zone secured near Rogue's tunnel, Cammie had been handed off to Callisto, the fight more or less knocked out of her. Everything was going wrong, but that was life. It didn't mean she had to accept it though. Right now she wasn't even really processing what was going on. 

"They're okay, right?" she asked, no swearing, no preamble. She knew the answer, but the question fell from her lips again, "They're okay?" 

Callisto pulled Cammie closer in her arms so that the younger woman couldn't see her bright eyes. Remy had almost destroyed her once - or Gambit had. And Ororo... she'd known Ororo before she'd met any of these people, before Garrison, before Vanessa - even before Sarah. She'd felt Ororo's blood on her knuckles - hell, the kid had cut her face open and left her half-blind for weeks. And yet here she was, her ruined face hot and her vision blurred as she made for the exit. She tried not to grip Cammie too tightly as she strode through the wreckage, reached the bottom of the pile of rubble that led up to the hole Rogue had made, the other mutant waiting above them to collect them. She could still smell the ozone from here. 

"Yeh," she said. "They're okay." 

And she began to climb. 

Rogue watched from below as Callisto carried Cammie out, making sure that they got to the top. Clarice would know what to do and since Callisto seemed okay, she decided to find someone else. 

She heard Cammie ask if they were okay, and she'd seen the tenseness in Callisto's body. Strange. 

Back into the tunnel, she saw Wade with Logan, beginning to fight the ISF soldiers beginning to come at them through a haze of dust and debris. She mentally counted to see how many trips she had left, and her heart stopped. Remy and Ro. 

She turned and caught Wade's eyes and she suddenly found it hard to breathe. "Right." She nodded. "Your turn, sugar." 

Getting him to the top was easy enough with the ISF fighting Logan and Arthur. Once she got to the top, she turned to Clarice as Wade hopped through the available portal. "Got Wolverine and Longshot still ta get. Remy and 'Ro..." Rogue shook her head. "Jus' a few more portals, Blink. Keep goin' strong, girl." 

That was easier said than done, "I'm fucking tired of pronouncing time of death!" Clarice snapped back, though it wasn't Rogue's fault. She was going to be signing an awful lot of death certificates later. Too many. Too many funerals....she needed to not think about that right now, there were too many other things to focus on. 

_Just a couple more trips, a couple more trips_ , Rogue chanted to herself. Soon they could leave this godawful place with whatever little sanity they had left. 

It was all the distraction the Imperial Guard needed though as Black Light and White Noise rounded the corner of a building and focused their powers on her, realizing that taking Blink out would cripple the X-Men team. The combination of pitch blackness and sound so powerful she thought her ears might burst all but crippled her as she shot her portals out randomly, as many as she could generate. She'd never made so many at once before, she wasn't even sure where they all ended, a thought she did not want to think about either. Flashes of laser lights were even more disorienting as Nightside joined the attack. 

The lights were blinding as Rogue dove down. 

Once below, it was down to Logan and Arthur. Nice first mission, Rogue thought to herself as she beckoned to Longshot. Looking to Logan, she asked, "You can follow me up, right? Should be solid enough for ya to climb." Their last line of defense. One man. She shook her head at the thought. 

Logan shot her a grin. "Why you worryin' 'bout me all of a sudden? You know I can take care of myself. Don't worry, I'll find a way up. Get Arthur outta here before it gets even worse." He was breathing heavy as he darted from one position to another, ending the lives of one Guardsmen after another. Bodies littered the ground and yet they still kept coming.

"Might wanna close your eyes," Rogue muttered to Arthur. She could see remnants lighting up the sky. Squinting against the brightness, Rogue landed near Clarice. There were portals all around, where before there was only one. 

Rogue was hesitant to choose one but Clarice seemed to have reached her limit. Speaking softly, she tried to calm Clarice. "Jus' us two and Logan left. And you. Only a few more, sugar. It's almost done." 

Logan cut as wide a swath of clear area as he could before he retreated for the exit. He really wished he had a smoke grenade right then. It would've bought him and the rest of the team a little more time. As it was it took a mere few minutes of cautious probing before the ISF overran his last position.

He ran full tilt for the hole Rogue had made. Solid or not, it was going to be his only way out of this place. In what state of alive was the question. He slammed his claws into the cement and dirt for handholds and started climbing his way up. It wasn't narrow enough he could use the sides for additional leverage so Logan took what he could. Rebar and jagged boulders of concrete were used as footholds along with whatever he punched into the crumbling dirt.

A grimace etched his face even as finally levered himself out over the top of the hole amid a shower of bullets. They'd lost two more. Remy and Ororo buying them time to retreat and it still wasn't enough. Logan expected to see one portal waiting for him but the dozens flickering in and out of existence didn't make things easy. He ran for the first stable one he spotted and dove through with a muttered curse.

Falling to her knees, Clarice screamed, a portals opening around her like a lens flare, criss-crossing each other. She had no idea where they led to right now, it was just a matter of ending this, of destroying what was killing them. To think that she had faced nuclear warheads, the Fury, madmen and been to outer space and this might be what killed her. Her own portals. But she was going to end this. 

Arthur stepped forward hesitantly. Rogue's hand was still on his arm, comforting. He turned to her and placed a reassuring grip over her own gloved one. "We can't just leave her. We have to snap her out of it." There was a purple flash before the other woman could respond. A portal had appeared and closed over her in an eyeblink, leaving Longshot alone. He gulped, pulling himself back, and things quickly went from confusing to worse. 

The portals, pulsing randomly in and out over the Landing zone, began to move. 

Moving was perhaps a generous term, but Arthur had little time to fathom if the woman's mind was opening and closing portals so quickly that they appeared to dance across the landscape or if they were actually moving. The portals hungrily consumed any projected Darkforce blasts as to create a laser latticework around Clarice as she sat silhouetted in purple against Nightshade's screen of darkness. 

Longshot didn't think. He reacted. 

A front tuck into a three hundred and sixty slide flip was followed by a spinning cartwheel, and years of gymnastics training assured that he slipped past the lasers to be close to Clarice. He moved in time with the eclipsing portals at a maddening beat. Stop. Pause. Flatten. He swept down into a crouch, legs wide. "Blink! Sto—" 

A roll saved him from the encroaching web, but swept Arthur right into the open mouth of a waiting portal. For the briefest instant Longshot sat suspended at the top of Mount Everest before he pushed back against a cliff-face and pivoted into a wall run as to reorient himself back to India, but away from Blink. That taught him a few things. 

Light played against his daggers as Longshot's floor routine took him in and out of portals, changes in temperature from being taken across the world only an afterthought, as he closed the distance once again. It was blind luck that he didn't wind up stranded, but Arthur had always been lucky. 

He finally landed not three feet from the quivering, rage-fueled Clarice. A moment hung as she sat, consumed by her own emotions, before Arthur lightly flicked her on the nose. He smiled. "Let's go home." 

The portals shut off as quickly as they started and Clarice stared at Longshot for a moment disoriented. "Home?" she murmured, half falling into his arms. Home was good, she thought, opening one more portal. They could go home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> X-Project is an X-Men Movieverse/MCU RPG on Dreamwidth. It started in 2003, set right after the second X-Men movie, and from there took on a life of its own. Thirteen years later it’s become a universe all its own, and includes characters from all walks of Marvel life – no character is too small or too obscure for X-Project. We roleplay mainly through writing logs on email, as well as posts on Dreamwidth.
> 
> If you're interested, check out the below links!
> 
>   
> [Welcome to X-Project](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Welcome_To_X-Project) | [Application](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Application) | [Available Characters](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Category:Unplayed_Characters) | [Game Wiki](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Main_Page) | [Read The Game](http://xp-friends.dreamwidth.org/read) | [FAQ](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=FAQ) | [Contact Us](mailto:x_moderators@googlegroups.com) | [Follow Us on Twitter!](http://twitter.com/#!/xprojectrpg) | [Rules](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Category:Policy) | [Tumblr](http://www.tumblr.com/blog/xprojectrpg) | [Application Checklist](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Application_Checklist)  
> 


	14. Email to all teams

20th-Jan-2015 09:02 am - Updates - emails

x_tarot  
email to all X-Men, X-Force, X-Corps and X-Factor members, as well as medical staff - also, Wade Wilson, Julian Keller, Arthur Centino, Callisto and Megan Gwynn

I am sorry if this is horrible I am still trying to find how to say it. I will speak to some of you in person.

We have Jean, the mission was a success but I do not know if the price we paid was worth the cost. Storm and Gambit are gone. Clinton Barton is dead. Many more are compromised, physically or mentally including Jean herself.

We killed half the Imperial Guard, I do not know what the price we will pay for that will be. 

~Tarot

Email to X-Force members

No, I did not know they would die. I am sorry.

**Author's Note:**

> X-Project is an X-Men Movieverse/MCU RPG on Dreamwidth. It started in 2003, set right after the second X-Men movie, and from there took on a life of its own. Thirteen years later it’s become a universe all its own, and includes characters from all walks of Marvel life – no character is too small or too obscure for X-Project. We roleplay mainly through writing logs on email, as well as posts on Dreamwidth.
> 
> If you're interested, check out the below links!
> 
>   
> [Welcome to X-Project](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Welcome_To_X-Project) | [Application](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Application) | [Available Characters](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Category:Unplayed_Characters) | [Game Wiki](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Main_Page) | [Read The Game](http://xp-friends.dreamwidth.org/read) | [FAQ](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=FAQ) | [Contact Us](mailto:x_moderators@googlegroups.com) | [Follow Us on Twitter!](http://twitter.com/#!/xprojectrpg) | [Rules](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Category:Policy) | [Tumblr](http://www.tumblr.com/blog/xprojectrpg) | [Application Checklist](http://x-journal.net/Wiki/index.php?title=Application_Checklist)  
> 


End file.
